Autoboyography
Page 40

“But what?” I ask, pulling into a parking spot.
“No, nothing like that. He’s good. I just want you there.” She holds my eyes for one . . . two . . . three. “Are you sure you don’t want to go with me?”
“Do you want to go with me? Dude, Auddy, I’ll go with you if that’s what you need.”
She slumps. “I can’t back out with Eric now.”
Relief floods my blood. Sebastian would understand, surely, but the idea of dancing with Autumn when I’d rather be with Sebastian doesn’t seem fair to either of them.
Turning off the ignition, I lean back, closing my eyes. I don’t feel like being here with Manny or any of the other kids from school, messing around in the parking lot with remote-controlled cars. I feel like going home and writing out this tangle and heat in my head. I’m upset with Sebastian, and hate that he’s gone for the entire day when I feel so twisted inside.
“How many girls have you been with?”
I blink over to her, startled by the abrupt question. “What?”
Even in hindsight, I feel this weird twinge of disloyalty to Sebastian for having slept with anyone else.
Autumn is blushing. She looks sheepish. “Just curious. Sometimes I wonder if I’m the only virgin left.”
I shake my head. “I promise, you’re not.”
“Right. Like, I’m sure you have a whole bunch of stories I don’t even know about.”
God, she’s making me uneasy.
“Auddy, you know who I’ve been with. Three. Jessa, Kailley, and Trin.” I reach for her hand. I need air. “Come on.”
• • •
Utah Lake used to be gorgeous. It was full, and splashy, and a great place for all kinds of environmentally irresponsible water sports that positively horrified my parents when we first moved here. If you ask my dad, Jet Skis are the devil’s work.
Now the water level is low and the algae cover is so thick that even if it were swimming weather, we probably wouldn’t venture in. Instead, we just lurk between the parking lot and the shore, eating the pizza Manny brought and throwing stones as far out into the horizon as we can.
I dream about college life and living in a big city where I can spend a day in museums or at a bar watching soccer, or doing any number of things that don’t involve sitting around, talking about the same crap we talk about every day at school. I dream about convincing Sebastian to move with me and showing him that being gay isn’t a bad thing.
Kole brought a few of his college friends I’ve never met, and they’re flying radio-controlled helicopters near the parking lot. They’re big, footbally, and the kind of loud, frequently swearing guys that have always made me mildly uncomfortable. I’m no Manny, but I’m not small by any stretch, and I know there’s a certain calm to me that’s often interpreted as threatening somehow. One of them, Eli, sizes me up with a frown before looking at Autumn as if he’s going to roll her up in a slice of pizza and eat her. He’s muscular in a suspicious way, with a thick neck and splotchy, acne-scarred skin.
She shuffles into my side, playing the girlfriend role. So I immediately take on the boyfriend role, tucking my arm around her, meeting his gaze. Eli looks away.
“You don’t want to experiment with that?” I joke.
Auddy grunts out a “No.”
After our call this morning was cut short by Autumn’s arrival, Sebastian left for an activity at some park in South Jordan. I know he isn’t going to be home until after six, but it doesn’t stop me from obsessively checking to see if I have any cryptically suggestive emojis in my text box.
I don’t.
I hate the way we left things—with a casual “Talk later”—and I especially hate that he doesn’t seem to have any sense how his words on Thursday affected me. It’s something I’ve read about in the pamphlets Mom has left out—how queer kids sometimes feel this hovering sense of doubt, knowing someone could reject us not only for who we are specifically but who we are more deeply—but I’ve never really felt it before now. If Sebastian doesn’t think he’s gay, then what the hell is he doing with me?
I pull Autumn closer, calmed by the solid weight of her against me.
Manny recruits a few guys to help him build a huge radio-controlled Humvee, and when they’re done, they take turns hurling it over the uneven ground, the path down to the lake, small boulders bordering the parking lot.
Our attention is drawn away by a scuffle in the distance, near my car. Kole’s friends are wrestling, laughing, and we watch as a big guy I think is named Micah takes down Eli. Beneath him, Eli bucks and shoves, but he can’t get up. I don’t know what he’s done to get wrestled to the ground, even if it’s clearly good-natured, but I can’t help enjoying the sight of him pinned down there. We’ve exchanged zero words; he just has that asshole vibe about him.
“Get off me, faggot!” he yells, noticing how much attention they’re getting now.
Absolute zero: Everything stops moving inside me. Every particle of energy is focused on schooling my expression.
Beside me, Auddy freezes too. The word “faggot” seems to echo across the surface of the lake, but the only people it seems to have hit somewhere tender is the two of us.
Micah gets up, laughing harder, and helps Eli to his feet.
“I bet you just got the biggest boner, you fucking homo.” Eli brushes off his jeans. His face is even redder than it was before.
I turn away, acting like I’m just going to squint across the horizon at the beautiful mountains in the distance, but when I catch a glimpse of Auddy, she looks like she wants to rip Eli’s balls off with her bare hands. I can’t really blame her—I’m horrified to realize that people still talk like that . . . anywhere.
Wandering off, Micah seems unconcerned. The rest of the group turns to walk over to where Micah is picking up his fallen remote control toy, and the moment seems to pass as easily as a wave breaking on the rocky shore.
“Gross,” Auddy whispers. She looks up at me, and I try to smile through my repressed rage. I try to channel Sebastian, and for the first time, I understand his amazing fake smile. He’s had so much practice.
She stands, swiping the dried grass from her jeans. “I think we should head out.”
I follow her. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” she says. “Just not my crowd. Why would Kole hang out with these douche bags?”
Not my crowd either. I’m relieved. “No idea.”
Manny follows, protesting. “Guys, you just got here. Don’t you want to race these cars?”
“I told Tanner I wasn’t feeling great this morning,” Auddy lies. “I feel worse.”
“I’m her ride,” I say, shrugging as if she’s dragging me out of here against my wishes. But remote-controlled vehicles and homophobia just aren’t my cup of tea, I guess.
He walks us to my car, stopping me at the driver’s side. “Tanner, what Eli said back there . . .”
Heat pricks at the back of my neck. “What did he say?”
“Aw, man, come on.” Manny laughs, looking to the side in a don’t-make-me-say-it gesture. “Whatever, Eli’s an idiot.”
I move to get in the car.
This is so weird.
This is so bad.
It’s like he knows about me. How does he know?
Not to be detoured, Manny pushes his sunglasses up on his head, squinting at me in confusion. “Tann, wait. Just so you know, we’re cool. Yeah? I would never let someone say that crap to you.”