"Clark, we need to talk."
Sprawled on his bed, Clark looked up from reading a comic to see his mother standing in the door of his room, her face concerned. He was glad Alex's dad had called to let him know Alex was with Jared and okay, otherwise the look on his mother's face would have sent him into a panic. As it was, he had no idea what she wanted. He sat up Indian-style to talk to her the way he always did.
"Sure, what's up, Mom?"
She came in and sat on the edge of his mattress. She seemed at a loss to know where to start, a strange thing for her. His mother always knew what she wanted to say, when talking to him, at least.
"You said Alex had a fight with his mother, and ran away. I know your friend Jared found him and he's okay, but you left out a few details." She handed him her phone and Clark found himself looking at Jared and Alex in the middle of General Amos being their usual touchy selves. His mother showed him another one and took her phone back. The second damned them more than the first. Clark didn't know why Alex always looked so goofy around Jared, so stupid happy. It wasn't fair, this shouldn't happen to him because he had the nerve to love someone.
"Yeah, so?" Clark withdrew a little. He didn't know where his mother stood on homosexuality, beyond a few random comments that everyone should "leave those poor people alone". He was smart enough to know that being sympathetic towards strangers didn't always translate into personal acceptance.
"These are your two best friends, Clark. You spend all of your time with them. Is there something you're afraid to tell me?" His mother's voice was gentle, supportive.
Clark relaxed a little. Whatever happened wouldn't be too bad if his mother sounded like that. He glanced around his room, decorated in typical-teenage-boy, the floor indiscernible from the shelving due to the amount of crap everywhere. Posters of half-naked girls were pinned to the wall beside cars and rockets. His mother waited him out, something she excelled at, but he didn't know what she wanted to hear. He had nothing to tell her. Jared and Alex were gay, they made each other happy, and that was all he cared about.
"You never told me Alex was gay," she prompted when he didn't answer.
Clark shrugged. "Being gay was his secret. You don't tell a guy's secrets. It's not a big deal, he's the same as he's always been. The kids all know, just now the parents are all talking and so it's this huge mess. Just leave him alone." He sounded petulant, which his mother never allowed, but this time she let the rudeness pass.
"I'm not here to talk about Alex, this is about you. Clark, are you gay?"
Clark stared at her. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He closed it. There were a thousand topics to choose from when his mother announced she wanted to talk to him. Once she introduced the pictures, the number narrowed to a few hundred. But that she might think he was gay never entered his mind.
She reached out and took one of his hands, studying his broken nails and calluses. He wore gloves when working for Jared, but the effect of hard labor on his hands remained evident. He knew people thought gay guys had soft effeminate hands. Those people had never met Jared. There was nothing soft about the guy. A man's hands didn't tell his whole story, and neither did who he had for friends.
Alex had been Clark's best friend forever. That didn't change when Alex realized he was gay and whispered it to Clark one dark night under the covers. They were thirteen, and sex was still some blurry event on the horizon. Something that would happen with girls, except, for Alex, it would be boys.
Do you want me to be gay, too? Clark smiled, remembering his stupid question. He never forgot the horrified look on Alex's face.
Why? I want a boyfriend, not you. That had ended the discussion.
They'd carried on with the business of growing up, things unchanged between them. The whole deal about being gay or straight never made any sense to Clark. He didn't understand what difference it made. Sure, some gay guys did really awful sexual things to people, but there were plenty of crazy straight guys who did the same stuff. Pedophiles, predators, and rapists weren't the norm in either group. He didn't know why the entire gay community got painted with the pervert brush. No one thought he'd rape a kid or something horrible because he was a straight man. Clark considered that. Lately, no one seemed to think he was straight.
Maybe he needed a girlfriend.
"Clark, you aren't going to be in trouble. I understand people don't choose to be gay. You don't have to be afraid to tell me." His mother's gentle loving voice brought Clark back to the present. He laughed and shook his head.
"Stop worrying, Mom. I'm not gay," he assured her.
Instead of relief at the news, his mother pursed her lips looking more concerned. "Honey, have they hurt you? I can see they're together."
Clark gave his mom a few points when she didn't even hesitate before she said 'together'. Still, he had no idea what she thought.
"Yeah, they are all crazy for each other. Alex fell head-over-heels the first time he ever saw the guy. I'm not sure if it's funny or pathetic. I guess a girl would say it was 'sweet'." Clark laughed.
"You aren't in love with one of them?"
Clark didn't know if he should laugh or cry. He stared at his mother in shocked disbelief. "They're my friends. Jared's my boss. That's just… oh that's all kinds of messed up." He shuddered.
Tension went out of his mother's body and she relaxed for the first time since she sat down. She squeezed his hand and gave a little laugh. "Okay, Clark, I believe you. I was worried you were mooning after one of them. I don't want you to get hurt. I love you." She gave him a watery smile. "You don't have to be afraid to tell me things, I'm not Jan… well I'm not the sort to get upset."
"Yeah, I know, Mom. I'm really not gay. I don't know why people have to get all hung up on this stuff. Everyone sweats the details. It's stupid."
"I agree with you, but as a parent it's hard not to get caught up in those details. I apologize for doubting your honesty, but Clark, you've never had a girlfriend. You talk about girls a lot. I thought it might be a case of protesting too much."
Clark nodded, not meeting her eyes. He didn't really care she thought he was gay, but he didn't like keeping secrets from her. He grabbed his wallet off the night stand and flipped it open. Pictures, he and Alex, him and Jared. God, no wonder she put him in the gay box. He found the picture he was looking for in the slot where his ID was supposed to be, an old snapshot of him and Alex with a girl between them. They were wet and muddy, arms around each other's shoulders. Impossible to tell what color her hair was, and just as impossible to discern her features under the mud. They were scrawny thirteen year olds and late bloomers, they looked about ten. T-shirts sagged with the weight of the water, and boney knees stuck out from under three pairs of cutoffs. The bright sun had baked the mud to their skin. His mother looked at the picture, touched the central figure and lifted her eyes to his.
"Still?" The tenderness in her voice almost broke him. Clark shrugged and closed the wallet. His mother took his hand again, this time she tugged him close. They sat, shoulder to shoulder, on the edge of the bed. Once he had fit under her arm, now he towered over her.
"I didn't realize." She hesitated a moment, then continued. "Clark, Stevie's grandmother had a heart attack. She died. Stevie is coming home."
Clark sat frozen, his heart thundering in his chest. He hadn't seen Stephanie since they were fourteen. He'd always loved her, hadn't forgotten her, even in the midst of raging teenage hormones.
"Coming home—but where is she going to stay?" His voice cracked and he sounded like a little boy again.
"With her mother."
Clark looked at his mom, love and compassion written on her face. What she said sank in and he pulled away from her. Making a mad dash for the bathroom, he barely made it before he was violently ill. Stevie was coming home and he wasn't old enough to keep her safe.