Bottled Up Secret Page 9

  “So, can I be honest about something?” Mark asks. I nod. “Last night at the game…keeping my distance from you was a lot harder than I thought it would be.”

  “I know.”

  “And I could tell Natalie wasn’t too happy I was there. It might be easier if I don’t hang out with the group as much, at least for now.”

  “I understand. I think it’s hard when Chris and Natalie are there because they know you better than everyone else and are more aware of your actions. Reese or Kelly or whoever else wouldn’t think twice because you’re just an acquaintance.”

  “Right. I agree.”

  “This is a good time to bring up something that I was going to tell you tonight,” I say. “Remember a week ago when Kara was the only one who knew that I’m gay?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, that’s not the case anymore. I told everyone else last week.”

  “Whoa, seriously?”

  “Yeah. I knew I was going to do it soon, and I decided that last weekend was as good as time as any.”

  “So, how’d it go?”

  “It was good. I’m so happy that they all know now. No more secrets. Oh wait…”

  “Sorry.”

  “I’m kidding. It’s worth it. But you need to know that I told them I like you. At this point, I had no hope that something was going to happen with us.”

  “Okay,” he says, “but they don’t know about anything that happened this week.”

  “Right. And Kara’s actually the only one who knows about New Year’s. I didn’t tell anyone else.”

  “Okay.”

  Mark and I finish our dinner and head to the movie theater. On the way, he asks me what movie we are seeing.

  “Well, let’s just say that you might need me to hold you during it,” I tell him.

  “It’s a horror film?” I nod. “You know you don’t need a scary movie to get me into your arms.”

  I pick up our tickets, and we head to the food line. “Popcorn or snacks?” I ask.

  “Snacks.”

  “That’s what I was thinking. Okay, what kind? Let’s say what we want on three. If it’s the same thing, we’re too good.”

  “Okay, let me think,” he says. “Okay, one, two, three. Sour Patch Kids.”

  “Sno-Caps.” I laugh. “Fail. I guess we’re getting both.”

  During the film I’m distracted because I’m trying to muster up the courage to hold Mark’s hand. I worry about how comfortable my arm will be after I do it, or if the hand holding will get old after a minute, or if he wants both hands free to eat the candy. I feel like I’m in eighth grade or something.

  I finally reach my right arm over the armrest and grab his left hand. He looks at me and smiles before starting to lightly rub his thumb on the back of my hand. I can’t believe how much excitement I get from simply holding his hand. We naturally adjust our hand placements throughout the movie. At each scary part, he grips my hand tighter.

  On the way home, seemingly without thinking, I put my hand on his thigh, drumming my fingers to the beat of the song on the radio.

  “Did you have fun?” I ask.

  “So much fun. I’d say date one was a huge success.”

  “Well, we’ll have to try to top it next time.”

  “I’m in charge of planning date number two,” he says.

  “Perfect.”

  I pull into his driveway, and my nerves instantly return. It’s time for the good-bye. I can’t initiate the first kiss. First off, I’ve never kissed a guy before. And as for the last time I kissed a girl, it was two years ago during a game of Truth or Dare. That doesn’t count.

  “Thanks for everything, Brendan.”

  “Of course.”

  “We have to figure out a time to hang out this week, in spite of finals madness.”

  “For sure. Lunch or something.”

  “But our official second date will be next weekend.”

  Mark and I stare into each other’s eyes for a couple of seconds, smiling. I don’t even know if I want him to kiss me right now. I am way too nervous and need more preparation or something. Instead of a kiss, he raises his arms and leans in for a hug. We embrace tightly for a few seconds before letting go. It’s a perfect good-bye.

  “Good night, Brendan.”

  “Night, Mark.”

  My smile remains on my face as I watch him walk up his driveway and into his house. Once I know that he is safe and sound inside, I reverse my car and head home.

  Chapter Nine

  The next day I wake up, ready for a long day of studying. After my amazing night with Mark, even prepping for six finals can’t bring me down. Fortunately, I only have one final Monday morning and can spend the rest of the day studying.

  I feel prepared for my first final, French Lit, but I do a little extra cramming Monday morning before heading to school. I’m glad this one is first because it’s going to be awful, and I want to get it out of the way. I’m not big into literature in general. My short attention span for movies translates to books as well. Taking tests about English literature is hard enough for me. French literature? Forget it.

  The final consists of four essay questions. First question: In Voltaire’s Candide, discuss the portrayal of religious figures. Seriously? I’m supposed to write my answer in French? I’m not going to lie; I didn’t even read the French version of this novel. I wanted to have some comprehension of the story so I read the English translation. The next ninety minutes should be interesting. Fortunately, this class has a big curve. I sure as heck won’t get a five on the AP test at the end of the year but I might manage to pull off an A in the class.

  Tuesday brings Government (pretty easy) and Geometry (moderately difficult). Halfway there. Wednesday is my English Lit and Physics finals. English was a lot easier than I expected. As for Physics? Well, it’s actually my favorite class, so I found it pretty easy and straightforward. What can I say? I’m a math and science guy.

  Now all that separates me from a three-day weekend is my Theology final tomorrow. An hour or so of studying should suffice. Mark and I are planning to get lunch after our last finals. Talk about motivation to finish my test as soon as possible.

  And that’s exactly what I do. To celebrate our freedom, Mark and I decide to go to a French café near our school. I’ve never been to the restaurant before, but a chocolate crêpe sounds delicious.

  We meet in the courtyard of our school and walk to the restaurant. It’s the first time I’ve seen him since our date five days earlier. I can’t contain my smile at the sight of him. He’s wearing tight khaki pants that accentuate his round, perky butt and a baby blue dress shirt that make his eyes look bluer than ever. How does he look this good in a school uniform?

  The restaurant isn’t crowded at all. I guess we’re a little early for the lunch rush. Or maybe it never really gets crowded. Mark and I are seated away from the other patrons, as if the hostess knows that we prefer being secluded.

  We start by exchanging recaps of our finals and predicting our grades.

  “So, you’re saying I shouldn’t take AP French next year,” Mark says.

  “Gosh, no!”

  “Mr. Trumble keeps telling me I should.”

  “Well, I’m sure Chris will take it, so it could be fun. It’s just hard.”

  “Can I tell you something that concerns me about you?” Mark says as I’m chowing down on my crêpes.

  “Yes. I’m scared.”

  “Your diet…is terrible.”

  I laugh. “I’m a picky eater.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you put a vegetable in your mouth.”

  “Because they’re gross.”

  “What?!”

  “They just don’t taste good. I’d rather have chicken fingers and French fries.”

  “A part of me is looking forward to the day where you can no longer eat crap and still look this good, so you’ll be forced to make a change.”

  “Let’s hope I’ve got at least anot
her decade of fast metabolism left.”

  “You’re crazy,” he says with a smile. “Okay, so this weekend…date number two…and a half. There’s this Croatian festival on Saturday night I think would be a lot of fun. It’ll have a bunch of food vendors and live music and stuff. Would you want to go?”

  “For sure. That sounds fun.”

  “Yeah, and we don’t have to stay there all night if it’s lame. We can figure out something else to do afterward.”

  *

  I wake up on Saturday full of energy and excitement. I get to see Mark tonight. Of course I can’t risk my mom seeing him pick me up. Instead, I meet him at his house so he can drive us to the festival. I’m sure as heck not ready to meet his parents, so he comes outside after I park my car on the street.

  We arrive at the festival to find a winding row of white tents leading to a stage with a band playing a song I’ve never heard before. We head straight for the tents selling food. I look up at one of them to find a menu incomprehensible to me.

  I turn to Mark and say, “All right, you need to help me out here.”

  “All right, trust me with this. You’ll like what I choose.”

  “Okay, make sure it has a lot of carbs and fat.”

  “Say no more. I’ve got you covered.”

  After Mark orders a few different things for us, we sit down at a small table nearby.

  “All right, we’ll start with a burek. Bread, meat, and cheese. Foolproof.”

  I bite into it and find that it’s delicious. “Yum!”

  “It’s loaded with fat and carbs, just as you requested. I figured you’d like it. Next up is cevapcici. It’s like a meatball, but more flavorful.”

  “Two for two, Mark,” I say after tasting one.

  “Okay, the last thing is a dessert, so let’s save that until the end.”

  The dessert, called rozata, is delicious as well. It’s like flan with a caramel topping.

  “Look at you, expanding your horizons,” Mark says.

  “I know. I feel so cultured. So, have you ever been to Croatia?”

  “Yeah, it’s awesome. I still have some family there. What’s your nationality?”

  “Mostly Irish.”

  “That’s what I thought. Have you ever been to Ireland?”

  “No. I’ve been to Europe, though. My sister was studying abroad in France, so we visited her.”

  “You like it?”

  “Yeah. I mean, I was only eleven so I didn’t really appreciate it. This festival is cool, though. It’s funny how things like this exist without my ever knowing it.”

  “I know. There are so many niche things like this, but unless it’s your interest, you wouldn’t know. I’m sure there are Irish festivals all year round.”

  “You’re probably right. All right, I have a question,” I say, switching topics. “Well, multiple questions.”

  “I’m ready.”

  “Amy…”

  “Ah.”

  “I guess I’m just more curious and fascinated than anything. The last girl I dated was in sixth grade, and we never even kissed. Oh, and by the way, that girl was Kara.” Mark laughs. “But you were in a long-term relationship recently. So what was it like? Was something missing?”

  “Well, that was my only serious relationship. She’s Croatian too, and her parents are friends with mine, so I’ve known her for a while. I wasn’t in love with her, but I did have strong feelings. We were very comfortable together and had fun when we hung out.”

  “Okay, but I’m guessing you guys were physical. So…”

  “So how was that?” he asks. I nod. “It was good. I mean, I was attracted to her. That’s why all this is confusing to me. I had a genuine attraction toward her. But I’m much more attracted to you.” I feel myself blush as a smile comes to my face. “Especially when you smile like that.”

  “Oh, stop,” I say. “But what you said makes sense. It’s not like you can only be attracted to guys or girls. There’s a gray area.”

  “Yeah. Unfortunately, I don’t think most people would agree with you.”

  I ask my last question regarding Amy. “So why did things end between you two? I know you said something just felt off.”

  “Yeah, it came to where I could take it or leave it. I still cared for her, but it felt like a friendship toward the end.”

  “Got it.”

  “Any more questions?”

  “Nope.”

  “Satisfied?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, now it’s your turn to tell me about your relationship with Kara.”

  I laugh. “Oh boy. It was super intense. We would go to Friday Night Skate every week and hold hands. And then we would write each other notes and pass them during class.”

  “Wow. So how did it end?”

  “I wrote a break-up letter and made Natalie give it to her at recess.”

  “Ouch. Harsh.”

  “That’s not as bad as how I broke up with my fifth-grade girlfriend. When the bell rang on the last day of school, I had my friend walk up to her and tell her ‘we’re done.’”

  Mark shakes his head. “Heartbreaker. So have you ever done anything physical with a girl?”

  “No, just made out with a couple girls. Actually, not even. It was more like French kissing for a few seconds.”

  “Okay, another question,” he says.

  “Keep ’em coming.”

  “When did you first—or when did you officially know that you’re gay?”

  “Well, I’ve always known really, but I was too young to admit it. Like, I remember being attracted to guys in grade school. But it wasn’t until early last year that I actually admitted it to myself. And building on what you said about your attraction to Amy, I think I might have had genuine attraction to some girls. In seventh grade I had my first kiss with a girl, and I remember wanting to do it. I don’t know. I was thirteen, so it’s hard to remember how I felt back then. Maybe it was just curiosity, not attraction.” Mark nods. “I’m not being very articulate right now.”

  “No, I understand,” he says. “It’s hard to explain. I’m trying to compare your experience to mine. So if you were attracted to guys in grade school, why did it take you until junior year to admit it?”

  “Honestly, because admitting it meant that I would need to tell my family at some point. I’m still terrified of telling them, but I don’t think about it much because it’s not going to happen in the near future. But something switched in my brain last year. I thought, ‘Screw it. I’m attracted to guys. There’s nothing I can do about it.’ I realized I couldn’t lie about it my whole life.”

  “So would your family really have an issue with it?”

  “I know my mom would. Not sure about my sisters. It would probably be a mixed bag of reactions.”

  “So you don’t have any attraction to girls?” Mark asks.

  “No. I can tell when a girl is hot, but I don’t have any sexual attraction toward them. Whereas my attraction to guys—wow. All right, my turn to ask. Am I the first guy you’ve ever been attracted to?”

  After a pause, he hesitantly says, “No…but you’re the first guy I’ve had feelings for.”

  “Darn right.”

  I can tell the wheels in Mark’s head are spinning. Maybe his sexuality isn’t as black and white as mine. After all, he did have a long-term girlfriend. But some gay guys marry women before coming to terms with their sexuality. That doesn’t make them any less gay.

  After finishing our dessert, we head to the stage to hear the band perform. They’re not bad, but it’s not my style of music. Mark senses correctly.

  “You don’t like them,” he says.

  “They’re…they’re fine.”

  He laughs. “I love that you can’t say a mean thing about anyone.”

  “I try not to. The lead guy has a pretty good voice actually. But yeah, I wouldn’t buy their album.”

  Fortunately, this band is on the tail end of their set. They are followed by a m
ellower guy and girl duo with an acoustic vibe. The girl has a great voice, and I honestly enjoy a couple of their songs. I can always appreciate a good singer.

  The festival winds down at about ten, so Mark and I head out shortly after. After he pulls into his driveway, we both get out of the car in the dark, quiet night. I look up at his house, trying to see if anyone inside is watching us, knowing that the likelihood is low.

  “Let me walk you to your car,” Mark says.

  “Needless to say, I had an awesome time tonight,” I say as we walk down his driveway.

  “Me too.”

  We stop at the driver’s side of my car as I rest my back up against the door. I look back at his house again.

  “No one is watching us,” he says.

  “Are you sure?” He nods.

  He and I are inches away from each other. I want to kiss him. I have to kiss him.

  “Get home safely,” he says as he gives me a hug.

  As we let go of our embrace, I move my hands from his back to his face as I go in for a kiss. I keep my lips touching his for a few seconds before releasing them and going in for another kiss. I pull back and exhale loudly. Wow. It takes me a moment to recover.

  He smiles at me before grabbing my waist to pull me in for another kiss. After a few more seconds, he pulls back. “Mmm,” he grunts.

  “Your lips…are so soft,” I say. “They’re like two big pillows.” He laughs. “Seriously. I need to do that one more time before I let you go. Come here.” I give him another kiss.

  “You’re a really good kisser,” he says.

  “Well, thank God because it’s been years since I’ve kissed anyone. You’re really good too.”

  “All right, give me another hug.”

  And with a hug and one final, lingering kiss, I open my car door and drive away. How did I go so many years without letting myself experience this? Those kisses were so intense. It never felt like that when I kissed a girl. I’ll be replaying this new experience with Mark in my mind all week.

  Chapter Ten

  It’s Sunday, which means that I only have one more night to prepare for my Anything Goes audition. Fortunately, I have a lesson with my voice teacher, Linda, tonight. It’s only a half hour a week, but I love going. Of course I love it—it’s me singing nonstop show tunes to an audience of one.