Page 14 of Mr. Frosty Pants
Casey frowned. “Joel’s straight.”
“Uh no. The way he used to look at you? Are you kidding me?” RJ laughed again. “I mean, I didn’t know ifyouwere gay, but Joel? C’mon.” He clucked his tongue.
Casey swallowed hard, hope hurting as much as hopelessness ever had. “Spell it out for me, RJ. Pretend I’m dumb.” Casey rubbed his fingers over his eyebrows, straining for patience. His breath came tight and fast.
Why was it that the acute heart-pangs he’d tried to run away from years ago started up again with every mention of Joel’s name? It’d been almost four years, for God’s sake, and Joel had basically just told him to kiss off. How could he be so pathetically in love still? It made no sense.
“Ah, I don’t know, bro. I’m high. Probably saying things I shouldn’t.” RJ sighed heavily. “But Becca and I always thought Joel’s claims about hooking up with girls in high school were all bullshit. Especially since he never got a second date with any of them. Andespeciallysince I never had any reason to believe he really had a first date in the first fucking place.”
“What are you talking about? Girls loved him,” Casey muttered, rubbing at his eyes. His mind whirred. “They were always coming onto him at school. Flirting. Following him around.” It used to drive him nuts, waiting for the day Joel did choose one of them to date for real and not just screw like he claimed.
“Yeah. True. They did chase him, you’re right.” RJ took another puff of whatever he was smoking. “What do I know? I just always thought we’d have heardsomethingfrom one of those girls if he’d actually taken them out. Like, you know, drama because he used them and walked away. That sort of thing.” RJ coughed. “Becca always said it was all bullshit. Just Joel fronting. You know how he was—all bark about everything. Never any real bite.”
Casey sat quietly trying to absorb RJ’s words. It wasn’t possible. Was it? “So you think he’s gay?”
“Maybe. Could be bi. He sure had some kind of thing for you back then. Becca and I used to talk about it all the time. Though we haven’t discussed it in years. She’s too busy telling me the gruesome details about her latest lady hookups to gossip about Joel, or you for that matter.”
“Why wouldn’t Joel have told you he was gay? You and Becca were out already.”
“Like you told us?”
Casey groaned. It was a fair point, but he didn’t want to admit it.
“Scared probably. Joel’s dad had some pretty big hang-ups about queers. Joel always told me and Becca to never mention it around him or we’d never be allowed back again. Hell, Becca used to pretend to be Joel’s girlfriend in front of his dad. And he punched Joel sometimes, you know?”
“Wait, what?” Casey tasted bile. “He did?”
“Yeah.”
Casey’s head spun. How had he not known any of this? Not about Becca pretending to be Joel’s girlfriend, and definitely not about Joel’s father being abusive. He’d been Joel’s best friend. They’d hopped the fence for each other. They’d watched YouTube videos in each other’s bedrooms. They’d listened to Gaslight Anthem albums and talked about horror movies.
Why the hell did RJ know something so important and he didn’t?
RJ went on, “His dad didn’t hit him enough for anyone to call Child Protection or whatever, but… Well, I don’t know.” RJ scoffed, annoyance slipping over the line. “It seemed like enough to me. I wanted to call, but it wasn’t my business. Or that’s what my mom said when I told her about that black eye he had that time—remember? You even asked him about it.”
The glaring purple bruise had forced Joel’s eye shut and lasted over a week. Casey’s chest tightened. “He said he fell cleaning out the gutters.”
RJ spoke softly, like he didn’t want to spook Casey. “Joel lies. That’s what I’m telling you. He lies for good reasons, I guess. Well, good reasonsto him. But they’re lies all the same.”
“Lies,” Casey echoed, feeling pieces of their past clicking into new and strange positions, making a fresh puzzle, a different map.
“Yeah, tons of lies. Everything from acting like he didn’t want us around to dating girls to where those bruises came from.” RJ sounded desperately sad, and the echo of it filled Casey up. “As for him being queer like us? Well, what other straight boy was hanging out with me and Becca? Not you. Am I right?”
“Not me,” Casey conceded. “But it’s not impossible. It’s not like every friend I’ve ever had in the world is gay.”
“True. Some of the guys in the bands I’ve toured with have been mostly or even all straight. I prefer it that way, actually. It means more hot ass for me.”
“Ha!”
“Opening for The Cure was my best gig ever. I got so much tail. All those old farts went to bed so early, and the band I was playing for at the time was totally straight. I was taking men home in handfuls. It was amazing.”
“You’re a slut.” Casey laughed.
“And proud of it.” RJ laughed with him before he spoke again, a tender sympathy in his tone. “So, you’re really still carrying a torch after all this time?”
Casey’s throat tightened. His instinct was to deny it and make up an excuse to get off the phone, push RJ away along with everyone else. But he had to face it. “Yeah. But I think he hates me.”
“Why the hell would he hate you?”
