Page 35 of Mr. Frosty Pants
Casey slung an arm over Joel’s shoulder, and Joel stiffened, looking around to see who was watching. But no one seemed to care. Everyone was too busy enjoying the baby ballerinas and their wranglers’ struggle to keep them moving forward to notice two guys touching.
“C’mon.” Casey tugged him away, heading north toward Market Square. “I have reservations.”
It was too loud to talk as they walked on the main road, but once they passed the four-story, light-bedecked Christmas tree at the entrance to Krutch Park—a small swath of nature through the center of town—the noise level dropped drastically. The trees had been liberally decorated with white twinkle lights and additional decorated Christmas trees lined the walk past the creek, which babbled cheerily from the shadows.
“Romantic,” Joel said. They hadn’t spoken much since the conversation in the car had gone too deep for comfort, but in the illuminated darkness, the awkward vibe had dissolved into a kind of fluttery coziness. Like maybe this was a thing that was really happening, something they both wanted. At that thought, Joel tamped back a strange urge to yelp and run.
“I told you I planned to romance you. I don’t know why you’re surprised. Haven’t I always been honest with you?”
“Uh, no?”
“Withholding information isn’t lying. You, however? You’re quite the liar.”
Joel couldn’t reconcile the tender fondness in Casey’s voice with the ugly accusation. He swallowed hard, throat clicking nervously, and then he gasped when Casey really did reach out to take hold of his hand.
They weren’t alone on the path, but it wasn’t crowded either. A small family of four approached, and none of them gave a second glance to where Casey and Joel’s fingers twined together.
“You’re not going to argue it?”
“Why should I?” Joel said huskily. “It’s true. I lied about myself—to myself even—for years. I can’t pretend I didn’t.”
“Why did you lie?” Casey asked, pulling on Joel’s hand until they came to a stop, standing face-to-face beneath the glitter-light trees, with the creek babbling next to them. “RJ was out as gay. Becca was out as liking girls. What did you think was going to happen if you told us?”
Joel’s throat went tight. “You’re one to to talk.”
“True. I already told you what I thought would happen, though. I thought I’d lose you. If you’d have come out, I wouldn’t have been so afraid of that. I lost you anyway, sure, but—”
“There you go again. Ruining my first date ever with all this deep digging. You’re supposed to tell me things that make me laugh so I’ll toss my head back and chuckle like this.” He threw his head back and faked a laugh.
Casey mimicked him, though his laugh sounded genuine.
Dropping the too-real conversation, they continued walking. Joel pointed out the newest sculptures along the walk, and Casey began chatting easily about art he’d seen when he was in New York. “The best show was this insane one by Paul McCarthy—”
“The Beatle?”
“No. That’s McCartney, you heathen. And to think you were ever in a band!”
“I was teasing.”
“Right.” Casey squeezed his hand. “Anyway, it was a perverse exploration of the story of Snow White and Walt Disney. Grotesque in this dark way that I associate with some of my uncle’s descriptions of cinematic art from the 1970s and the early 1990s.”
“Which uncle?”
“Robert.”
“Oh, ‘the pervert.’”
“He’s gay. Like us.”
“I guess that was hard, huh?” Joel asked. Along with the opinion that Manor Crest and Belmont Hills boys shouldn’t be friends, Casey’s dad and Joel’s pop had shared a penchant for casual homophobia. “When you came out? Remembering how your dad had called Robert a pervert for all those years?” The things Pop had said about Joel’s mom’s brother had certainly always stung.
“That’s third date conversation,” Casey said teasingly.
“Sorry. I’ve never been on a date before. I’m taking my cues from you.”
Casey shook his head wonderingly. “That blows my mind. Why hasn’t anyone ever asked you out?”
“Something about my sweet and tender demeanor scares guys away,” Joel snarked. “Maybe they think I’m too angelic to fuck or something.”
