Just For the Week Ch. 02

"Because nothing happened. Connor stepped in and saved me."

"I won't be careless again. I'll be glued to your side from here on out."

It's the "out" part that almost makes me cry.

"If you ever find yourself face to face with him again, keep in mind that he's slow. Don't let him catch you. He's strong as a bull but he has all the grace of a bulldozer. Like me with ping pong, he winds up and delivers a long, slow, avoidable blow. But if he ever catches you, it's over."

I nod, pick up a breadstick and drop it back in the basket. "So...the high road, huh? You have that much self-control? You stood there and didn't say or do anything?"

"What are you implying?" he has a half smile.

"Oh, nothing. I've just gotten to know you some and it's hard to imagine you being as passive as you describe. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad you didn't fight back. I don't want you expelled too, but did you maybe say or do something to, oh I don't know, encourage Kevin?"

"That fucker stepped way over the line with you yesterday, so I don't know. I might have said something quietly that only he could hear." Tyson leans across the table. "You know how Kevin bulked up in muscle mass between junior and senior year?"

I nod.

"Well, the rumor is that he hit the steroids pretty hard. You know what they say one of the side effects of steroid use is, right? After he called me the f-word, I leaned in and suggested to him that he was trying to overcompensate for his, shall we say shortcomings? I knew I'd get him. All I had to do was be able to take a punch and he'd be gone."

"You could have really been hurt. And you shattered your team because of me."

"Shatter is an exaggeration. There's only one game left." He gives me a serious look again, "Nobody's gonna threaten my..." He clears his throat, "Look, all I did was take out the trash."

How was he going to finish that sentence? I pick up my water glass, "He's gone and we're not. A win for the good guys," we clink.

He asks me, "Have you ever had someone important in your life? A significant other?"

He doesn't say girlfriend. "No, I never have."

"How come?"

"I could just say that the right person hasn't come along, but I also never imagined a meaningful relationship happening in high school. I always figured that would wait for college or beyond."

"That's a little sad." He takes another bite, "To close a door like that when you don't know what could happen. My parents started dating in high school and it worked out for them."

"Well, I suppose if the right person did come along, then I'd have something to think about. Keep in mind, graduation is two weeks from today."

"True." He holds my eye for an awkwardly long moment.

I check my watch and it's already after 11:30.

He says, "Let's bounce."

Three days down and seven to go.

~~

I've been assigned a new lab partner. My old lab partner is just gone. Did he move away? Did he drop the class? I don't know.

My new lab partner has lighter blond hair, blue eyes rather than hazel, he's 6'4", built like an elite athlete and he has giant feet. He's ridiculously good-looking. So good-looking, it almost hurts.

But my new lab partner doesn't play games. Our experiments are taken seriously. They are conducted strictly by the book. We make good partners -- a good team. We work well together, we support each other and we genuinely like each other. He does not trap me between his legs, rip my pants off and do unspeakable things to me. I do not tie him to my bed posts and administer The Gay Test.

But that doesn't mean I don't want him. I just want him in a different way. In a real way. I want the real him. We're in my bedroom, just finished with studying for tomorrow's exam when he starts massaging my shoulders. He has big, strong hands and he knows how to dig deep, but not too deep. Goosebumps run down my arms and down my spine. We go sit side by side on my bed and he takes my hands in his. His sky-blue eyes bore into me. I move one inch closer and he closes the remaining distance between us. He palms the back of my head and our lips meet. He tastes so good. I part his lips and find his tongue with mine and he tastes even better. My hands wrap around his waist and through his clothes, I feel that he's all muscles and bones.

His kiss is magical. It has special powers. It gives me tingles and shivers that none of my erotic experiments of the past ever could. It's not dangerous or x-rated. It's real and passionate I don't even mind that neither of us is ripping the other's clothes off. That will come later. Another day. For now, we're happy to go slow. There's so much more of each other to still to explore and nothing is more worth the wait. Our tender kissing goes on for hours and the bell never rings.

I wake up realizing how different that dream was. When Connor was my subject, never one single time did I ever kiss him.

~~

After the play, I walk into Tyson's family room where Miranda is sitting quietly with headphones on. She sees me carrying my guitar case and her expression immediately lights up. She says, "I'll be right back," and she bolts out of the room.

Tyson says to me, "Thanks for coming over for dinner tonight. She's way more mature at fifteen than I was but it's tough right now. She's gonna love this." He pulls me in for a quick hug.

"Hey, I'm glad to. I'll have at least as much fun as she will."

Miranda reappears, wearing her guitar and Tyson says, "Before I lose you two to the music, we have to decide on dinner."

Miranda says, "Whatever you guys want is fine with me."

Tyson looks at me, "You're the guest."

"Just order pizza. I'll have a couple pieces. Stop looking at me like that! I can be flexible."

Miranda says, "Tyson told me about your..." she searches for the words and settles on "...dietary preferences. Do you do Atkins or something?"

"Kind of. I wouldn't label it any one thing. But this week, I'm breaking the law." I growl like Judas Priest. Miranda doesn't get the reference, but Tyson laughs.

"I'll call it in."

Miranda whispers, "Pizza's perfect because it'll go with the salad he spent all morning making."

He made me a salad. I shake my head, smiling.

We start playing some chords together and I ask her to play a song she knows from her lessons. She plays Over the Hills and Far Away. She's pretty good.

She says to me, "I'd really like to learn how to play along with songs I like."

I thought it was cool, but I guess she's not much into Led Zeppelin.

She taps at her phone and a Pink song plays from a Bluetooth speaker on the table. I grab my guitar and we play her songs for an hour.

Miranda tells me that she signed up for choir next year. "It's not really my thing, but musically, it's all Chandler offers."

"I'm sure you can sing circles around your brother here. He's a man of many talents, but singing isn't one of them."

Tyson pretends to be hurt, "Hey, I love singing. I'm a good singer."

Miranda laughs, "The fact that you think you're a good singer makes it so much worse."

Tyson shoots eye daggers at his sister. I play-punch his arm, "Do you have any idea how annoying it is that you are so good at pretty much everything? Music is the one thing you're not all Tyson-Freaking-Courtland at. It's cute that you try and it's okay that you fail." I offer my most charming grin, "Music and ping pong."

"Wow! You really went there?" I know he's only acting mad. "I am good at ping pong. You'll just never know it because you're some kind of super-human, invincible machine."

I laugh and he gives me a shove. The doorbell rings and the pizza's here.

~~

Tyson says, "I want to show you something." He leads me upstairs and to the room at the end of the hall across from his bedroom. He opens the door and the west wall is all windows. It's almost sunset and the room glows in a soft, orangey comfort. The other walls are lined with artwork; drawings and paintings -- some completed, some in progress.

I am not an artist but I'm practically breathless as I'm surrounded by Tyson's creations. I think back to the collage he made for me last week. I finally find some words, but I can only manage, "Wow! This is amazing!"

"You're the first person I've trusted to show this room to, outside of my family. None of my other friends have earned it. This is what I want to do. I'm showing you my heart here."

"These are brilliant!"

There are two chairs in the middle of the room and we sit, knees bumping. "From the moment I heard you playing Vienna in the choir room way back on Thursday, I knew you'd be the first person I'd welcome into this sanctum."

He begins his campaign, "You need to know that your voice matters. Your speech Wednesday in student council, it was amazing." He stares into my eyes. "You're smart, caring, sensitive, brave, strong and talented. Just in the past few days this whole inclusion week was your idea. You even stood up to Hannah Vaughn. Tomorrow you'll have a captive audience." He lightly pokes his finger into my chest, "Tell them what's in your heart. Don't underestimate yourself or your impact. Remember, we have a bigger purpose here."

How can I forget...bigger purpose.

I am overwhelmed by my emotions right now. His deep blue eyes are boring into me. The orangey sun has set, leaving behind a pinkish-purplish glow of light just beyond the window. His brilliant, intimate artwork is hanging all around us and he still holds my eye. I feel my pulse increasing and my face flushing. My heart rises into my throat and my eyes pool with tears. It's not even a conscious choice. I don't decide to do this, I find that I'm overtaken...almost possessed. The words involuntarily spill out.

"This whole thing is hitting a little too close to home for me." I take in a deep breath and look away from him. I did not plan this. It's not lost on me that this is about to be a watershed moment in my life. I blurt out, "I'm gay." I let that proclamation resonate for a minute before adding, "I'm gay and this is the first time I've said those words out loud."

Tyson never breaks eye contact, but he says nothing.

"I never planned on coming out in high school. High school, to me, was just something to survive; real life comes later. But I had to tell you though because of how we... I have to be honest. You need to know that not only am I gay, but I think I'm... Tyson, I like you." There. I said it. I feel like a fucking middle schooler, but I said it.

I expect him to jump up out of his chair and order me out of his house. He doesn't. He does clear his throat and says, "You mean like-like." It's not a question.

I nod and look away. I can't hold his eye anymore. Not right now. "We're putting on this show for everyone. The thing is, I'm not playing. I'm not acting. Not anymore. My feelings are real and you need to know."

He stays quiet; letting me take my time. I take in a rough, choppy breath, "I have to slow this way down. I have to take a big step back. I need to protect myself or I'll get hurt, though honestly, it's already too late." Beads of sweat form on my brow, "I'm such a fucking cliché. The closeted, invisible gay guy falls for the gorgeous, popular, straight jock. We all know how that story ends. And you did nothing wrong. You're just being who you are. But I'm falling hard for who you are." Tears roll down my cheeks. "I didn't plan to, I didn't even want to and when I noticed it starting to happen, I tried so fucking hard to stop it, but it was already too late."

I lift my shirt to wipe my eyes, "I had to tell you. Don't you see? When we started all of this, I figured it was safe. I hardly knew you and we were playing a role. But now..." I trail off. I swipe at another tear and sniff. "It's not a role anymore. Not for me. When you take my hand or put your arm around my shoulder, you know that little flinch you feel from me? I don't flinch because it's awkward or uncomfortable or wrong, I flinch because your touch jolts me, it sparks me. It's wrong because it feels so right. But I know it'll never feel right to you. And it's totally unfair of me to put this on you. You've been nothing but honest and I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to all of this. I just had no idea I'd have to battle real feelings for Tyson Freaking Courtland." I realize that my heart is pounding harder than it's ever pounded in my life. I stand up and find that I'm dizzy. I try to steady myself. "I need to get out of here."

He puts a hand on my shoulder and pushes me back into my chair. "No, you don't. You're not going anywhere right now. We have to talk through this."

"I just talked more than I ever imagined talking on this subject. You can't keep me here." I look around like a cornered wild animal. Like I'm going to find some trap door or secret exit. I'm on the verge of full out sobbing now. "All of the times and ways I imagined coming out, this doesn't come close to any of them. And to you? Oh my god! What have I done? I really have to get out of here." The sun has completely set now and the warm glow is gone. There's a dark, eerie atmosphere in the room and it's giving me a bad feeling. I need to go home, to my room, bury my face in my pillow and hide until college starts. I attempt to move past him but he blocks my way.

"You're in no condition to drive and I won't let you be alone. What you just told me doesn't change anything. Everything I've said to you, everything we've done together is real. I don't feel any differently about us, or about you."

I sigh, "Right. You don't feel any differently, but I do. Look, I believe you when you say that you want to be friends beyond just this week. I believe you when you say that I'm the best friend you've ever had. But for you, that's all we can ever be. And it breaks my heart." I'm full-on ugly crying at this point. "Please let me go." I manage to get past him. On wobbly legs, I run down the hall and down the stairs.

I see my guitar in the family room. Shit. I have to stop and pack it into its case. I sense Tyson behind me.

He says, "You know, you just told me how I feel about all of this, but you never asked me. You are not leaving this house without hearing me out. I'll tackle you if I have to. Once I'm finished, if you still want to leave, I'll let you go."

I snap my guitar case shut, but I stay where I am. He looks like he really will tackle me if I make him. "I'm listening."

His eyes are red and watery too. "Sometimes we make the mistake of giving people too much space, too much time, possibly at the expense of each other. I mean, 'coming out' is a personal, private decision. It's different for everybody. There's no right or wrong time or way to do it, as long as it's your choice. Not Hannah Vaughn's, not your friends' or family's, not even mine. If you had genuine emotions here tonight that led to this revelation, then this wasn't wrong." He looks down at his feet and toes at a knot in the hardwood floor. "It's not my place, or anyone else's to ask you. That's for you to decide to tell, but while we're busy not asking each other, we could be unknowingly hurting each other."

I lean my guitar against the coffee table. "I don't think I understand what you're saying."

He inches closer to me as he continues, "As I've gotten to know you this past week, I've come to understand that while I have a lot of friends, I don't have any real friends. Well, I mean I didn't have any real friends. This has never happened to me before. You and I are so different, but I've literally had the best week of my life. And it's not just the bigger things like you showing up at my game, taking those videos for my dad or your amazing musical talent... I've loved the silly little things just as much. I love that you kicked my ass in ping pong! I loved going for a run with you then eating a big sugary donut after. I wouldn't trade a minute of our time together for anything."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm still figuring things out, so I don't know what to call it; bisexual, pansexual, gay...I don't know that it even needs a label."

"You? But how... When..." I'm suddenly incapable of completing a sentence.

"I should have broken up with Stacey long ago. Really, I should have never dated her in the first place. She was not a nice person. For her sake, I planned to keep it going through prom and graduation. I figured we'd naturally drift apart over the summer, then leave for college and never have to deal with drama. But then that Hannah Vaughn shit happened. I knew you didn't need saving. I knew you'd be fine, but I also recognized it as an opportunity. I decided to step up and provide a distraction. It ended up being the best thing I could have done because, here we are." He scoots closer still, "Aside from my family, you are the only person I care about. You're the only person I want to be with."

I'm still in shock.

He reaches his hand toward me but stops himself halfway, "Tears are an important part of coming out." He wipes his own eyes again, "I just wish yours were tears of relief and joy, not pain and anguish. I'm sorry you didn't get to come out the way you wanted to, but I'm not sorry it happened."

I'm still having trouble meeting his eyes. I stare down at the clean white socks on his impossibly humongous feet.

"Jackson Pearson, you are so not invisible. Anybody who thinks you are is irrelevant anyway." He lets out a breath, "I truly went into this boyfriend stunt with only two goals. To transform the school and maybe make a new friend. I had no other expectations. I didn't know that you were gay too and even if I had, it wouldn't have changed those goals. But you know what? I've spent the last four days... Pearson, I 'like-like' you too. From the first notes of Vienna Thursday afternoon to showing you my artwork here tonight and everything in between, I've never felt so right with anyone else in my life. The embarrassing truth is that I've had a secret crush on you for two years now."

Of everyone in the world, I Jack Pearson understand having a secret crush. I close my eyes but an image of Connor Mills does not form. I only see Tyson. I summon the strength to lock eyes again. My brain, now in self-preservation mode, is skeptical of his words but his face... His eyes... He means what he's saying. I wipe more tears with my shirt. I could wring it out at this point. "You just exploded my brain."

He laughs. "I was actually afraid my feelings were obvious, like with the promposal board. I'm not good at small and subtle."

I laugh too. No, he's not. He is so the opposite of me. If I were to design my ideal boyfriend -- like making a Mii on Wii -- he would be nothing like Tyson Courtland, in either appearance or personality. But my design wouldn't be a real person. Tyson is as real as a person gets and suddenly, nothing has ever felt righter than how I feel right now.

Our two lives are now completely different than they were just one hour ago. He takes my had and there's that electricity again.

He continues, "I know we still have six more days of this 'thing' but I don't want it to end." He dabs at a wet eye with his sleeve. "I know that over the past week I've thrown the word 'boyfriend' around a lot, but I want it to be for real. I want you to be my boyfriend before, during and beyond prom."

I'm still stunned. I finally find my voice, "You're right. I am guilty of assuming. Before this past week, I hardly knew you. You make me feel important. You push me and challenge me. You make me laugh and you give me confidence. You're generous, kind and talented." I stop talking.

Tyson's smile fades and he says, "I feel a 'but' coming."

"But I'm not sure that any of this really changes anything."

"How can you say that? It changes everything!"

"Nothing would make me happier right now than to go all-in with you, but that's short-sighted." I look at the beautiful young man who just opened his heart, sitting here holding my hand. I just want to melt into his strong arms.