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In world news, President Clinton has signed the Defense of Marriage Act, defining marriage as one man and one woman.
Mcquaid didn’t understand why that put a frown on his face, or why his stomach did flips anytime something like this came on the news, or why he didn’t call everything gay like the other kids at school. He didn’t understand. He looked over to Lucas, wondering if the look on his face showed any signs of normality, but he looked empty. Tyler was looking the other way, assumably with some stupid grin on his face or mumbling some jokes to himself. This pushed him closer and closer to isolation.Only 13.95% of the male population in the United States is gay. Surely Mcquaid couldn’t be apart of that statistic. The chances were too small, you couldn’t even flip a coin on it. To him, these odds were akin to those of dying of some obscure disease, winning the lottery, or getting eaten by a shark. In his heart he knows that if he forgets he’ll be settled down with a woman that he loves, with kids, a moderately sized home. He’d be living the stereotypical American dream. The one that his parents sought out, the one that he inherited.He stood there in overwhelming silence until deafening feedback rang through his ears for what felt like forever. A distraction he hoped to receive, a savior from the proverbial bell.Noticing Luke has already wandered off, talking to a girl that was admittedly way out of their leagues, there wasn’t much choice but to strike up conversation with Tyler. He couldn’t hide in his head forever, he supposed.“That was god awful. This, all of this is god awful. Four years here, one thousand four hundred and sixty days. That’s insane.” He put his fingers to his temples, sighing in frustration.“How many days do you think we’re gonna spend in this room?” Tyler asked, mouth agape.“I don’t even know if we’ll be doing this,” another huff of exasperation left his lips. “It would take a little bit of time to work out, and even then, the results would be inaccurate if you factor in sick days or the chances that we might not complete a single week in AV without throwing in the towel. Short answer is, I don’t know. Ask your math teacher.”As soon as Mcquaid finished his miniature rant Tyler turned back to talk to Luke. If he pushed it down and muscled through it, he thought, he’d be able to overcome this morbid sense of curiosity in place of something easier. Something legal. Something human.He kept it down.
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The television sounded like an empty cacophony of noise to the boys’ ears. Tyler spared a few glances to Mcquaid, who sat with his knees up to his chin, tears fell from his eyes without noise. They’ve been friends for god knows how long, and he still doesn’t remember the last time he’s seen Mcquaid’s hair looking anything but perfect; it sticks to his face with sweat. It hangs in front of his face haphazardly, sticking up at the sides and frizzing in the back. It was a sight to see, but one he wanted to forget.Tyler thought they’d be sitting in that nearly deafening silence until one of them fell asleep or left out of unadulterated boredom. The Frasier marathon wasn’t going to hold them for long, part of him was expecting Mcquaid to tell him to beat off into a sock again.“She’s gay.” Mcquaid sighed, his hands gripped around a can of Surge that’s been flat and lukewarm for the past hour.“Yeah, Luke told me. We already knew Kate was totally gay.”“No, Emaline. Emaline, the girl I kissed. She was with Oliver — this is bullshit! I thought — I thought I knew. It isn’t fair. ”There wasn’t much he could say. Not much he could do. Jokes and hugs seemed awfully out of place, and the last thing he wanted was Mcquaid pushing him away again. The most he could do was bask in the silence, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.Tyler’s vague attention to Frasier faltered. He fell into the thoughts that brewed in his head. The way Mcquaid said gay bit harder than he expected it to. It’s a word that he dreads, a word that burns like bitter bile. Gay. A word he never wanted to be associated with.Overwhelming disappointment flooded over him. It never crossed his mind that he was having an in-depth sexual awakening on his best friend’s couch, but here he was, his hands in his lap and his gaze bouncing between Mcquaid and the television in front of him. If there was one thing he could do well, it was pretending he was doing okay. At least for the time being.As much as he tried to shake the thought, he couldn’t help but think about his relationship with girls. A mother he barely knew, a tutor, a distant thought in the back of his mind. He’s never known what it felt like to be head over heels, he’s never been in the shoes Mcquaid was standing in right now, and it’d take more time in this headspace to consider if he’d ever want to be.“There are other fish in the sea.” Tyler regretted saying those words as soon as they came out of his mouth.“I don’t care about other fish, I care about Emaline.” Mcquaid’s voice was sharp. There was nothing else to add. The sounds from the TV proceeded to fill their ears.He didn’t want to think more about why Mcquaid’s words hurt him so much, he was trying to drown his thoughts out with comedy he didn’t understand and food he didn’t enjoy but the volume on the television couldn’t compete with the words that ran rampant in his mind.Tyler tried not to think about all of the thoughts he’s had about girls but they all came back at once. He thought about girls when his hand was in his pants but that didn’t mean anything. The old magazines he stole from his father were rarely used, the only time he’s come close to thinking about being in a romantic relationship with a girl was when her shirt was off on Cinemax. It was fake. Artificial. Constructed from an idea and not a wish he legitimately dreamed of fulfilling. There he sits, a million feet apart from Mcquaid on a sofa so small. He wondered how he could help him but the reason why he felt nothing but pity was staring him in the face. He wasn’t ready to look back.What would my mom say, what would my step-dad say, what would Mcquaid say?The sound of his heart pounding in his ears, the catch in his throat, the sweat threatening to drip post haste, tears that clouded his vision—“I have to go,” Tyler announced, barely a hint of confidence in his voice as he stood up and wiped his hands on his cargo shorts. He looked over at the clock for some feigned excuse for time but nothing registered. A bullshit rationalization was at the tip of his tongue, but nothing left his mouth. “Leave, then. I’ll be here wallowing in my own misery until monday.” He didn’t even give Tyler the courtesy of looking at him when he spoke.
He took his bottle of Gatorade off of the table. He grabbed his backpack from the mudroom. He let the cold Oregonian air hit him as his hands shook, as his breath caught in his throat, as tears fell almost violently from his face. There wasn’t any Frasier to put some peace to his mind, no droning comedy that he didn’t understand, there was silence. Apart from a few dogs barking in the nearby distance or cars driving past, it was empty. Empty enough to make your ears ring, empty enough to drive a person to insanity, Tyler already felt like he was halfway there. On his best friend’s doorstep, thinking about all of the bad things that would happen to him if he were gay. If he were anything but normal.As soon as Tyler caught some semblance of his breath he started walking back home. A walk that could be considered something more of a light jog, he gripped the straps of his backpack tight. Focused on the sounds of his shoes hitting the pavement. Listening to every step and trying to ignore the little inklings in his mind that assumed they were some of the last steps he would take feeling at least a modicum of normality.He unlocked his door and the first thing he saw was the beer cans and bottles of assorted liquor around his living room. Out like a light on his sofa was his father. As Tyler made his way upstairs he heard his snoring, the dog who was most often found perched on the side of his bed. Opening the door to his room he saw the magazines peeking out from between his mattress, even the thought made him sick to his stomach. Nothing felt right, and nothing would feel right for a long time.
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The music coming out of the small, portable stereo washed over McQuaid’s body entirely. He was tired and quite surprisingly numb. He didn’t have the energy or the drive to turn the music off or change the station. The top 40s garbage that played didn’t matter anymore, nothing mattered anymore. Hindsight is 20/20, but he knew he should’ve listened to that inkling in his head that’s been nagging on him since the beginning of the year. His chances of finding love were slim to none, there was no reason to recalculate the numbers. Disregarding the facts, numbers no one in the world could change, happened to be one of the worst decisions he could make.McQuaid’s head sat firmly in the clouds. It was a feeling that was hard to describe, considering it was hard to move his mouth. The only way he could even begin to encompass this stomach churning, painfully numb state of being in its entirety was slightly to the left.His eyes wandered his room without focus. Books he needed to read for class, folders stacked meticulously and filled to the brim with things he needed to study, a hoodie. It wasn’t his. Took a minute for the cogs in his brain to start turning, but once they did, they didn’t stop. It wasn’t that old. Last summer, he recalls. The summer before high school, the summer before everything went to shit.It was raining. Cold, hard, storming rain that painted the skies a dim green and orange. The rain he, Luke, and Tyler couldn’t have expected to come their way. McQuaid was donned in a t-shirt and dress pants, something he would describe as a casual affair.-“I’m not cold, Tyler. I’ll be fine,” McQuaid sighed. His teeth chattering, arms wrapped tightly around a body too exposed.
He heard a laugh so inherently Tyler it made every other love story seem dull by design.
“You can borrow my sweater!” Tyler exclaimed, the crack in his voice made him sound just as charming as he was pubescent.
McQuaid’s cheeks flushed red, he tried to mumble out a quick “No. I told you, I’ll be fine,” but Tyler managed to wiggle his way out of his hoodie in a few seconds.
“Hurry up, or else it’ll get soggy.” -He remembered it smelled overwhelmingly like Axe, covering up the dry scent of his parent’s cigarettes that managed to permeate through everything Tyler owned. He remembered it being short on the arms, tight at the neck, and riding up when he moved. It kept him warm. It brought those butterflies right back to his stomach and made him see the world in bright pink.It sat on a chair in his room, collecting dust after he put it in the wash. It didn’t smell like Tyler anymore. The hoodie meant nothing more to him than a few pieces of thick fabric stitched together overseas. McQuaid hasn’t thought about that damn thing for months and now what could’ve been a positive memory has been tainted with everything he’d neglected and forgotten about since Emaline. He’s still sitting on his bed, numb and alone, wondering why he hasn’t given it back yet. The first conclusion his brain jumps to is the stress freshman year has brought upon his entire group of friends, but the nagging in the back of his mind seemed to be saying otherwise.An attachment was formed with that hoodie. A confusing one, at that. Its presence in his room seemed to calm everything down. It was a piece of Tyler that brought the pink back to his field of vision.McQuaid walked stiff legs to the corner of his room to turn the radio off, interrupting a song about something all too trivial. He took the hoodie in sweaty hands, the muted green being less of an eyesore than he remembered.-“You’re going to get sick. This isn’t going to do either of us any good.” The words he chose were sharp, but his tone was soft.
“We’re almost home anyway,” Tyler shrugged, “And I do this all the time!” He started splashing through puddles, singing the lyrics to “Singing in the Rain” with arms open to the sky.
A soft chuckle. An adoring smile. “Hurry up! We have Mystery Science Theater to watch.”-All of the memories that came back to him made his stomach churn. This mixed in with what he witnessed Emaline doing with Kate was too much for McQuaid to handle. He longed for the day he could walk into school, walk out, finish his homework, and go to bed. No extra shipping and handling.He remembers the summer he spent with Luke and Tyler, waiting in anticipation for high school. The big leagues. The kind of stuff people watch in movies, falling in love. Going to homecoming. Prom, even. Now, everything else seems flat. A duller version of a straight to video teen drama.
Suddenly, the status of his existence changes from slightly to the left all the way to too much all at once. Thankfully, this was something he was all too familiar muscling through.He made sure to sit the hoodie right where he left it, meticulously folding the ends to make a perfect square in clothing form. He needed to rid himself of all emotion, like a Vulcan during Kolinahr. To do that, he was going to have to give back that damn hoodie.