ALL THIS TO SAY
I wish there was a movie of my life. Something I could turn on when I wanted to know what was coming. Even if it meant I’d know the ending, at least I’d know what to do next.
But there aren’t movies for boys like me. Growing up, I could never find myself in the Hollywood endings or music montages. I wasn’t giving speeches at prom or racing to the airport. I grew up watching movies for other boys. Learning from the wrong playbook. Stealing notes off someone else’s paper. Maybe that’s my problem. Maybe that’s why I can’t stop counting down the days.
Because the things I want tear me apart. Bash. Northwestern. I can’t have one and the other. Time’s running out and the worst part, the thing that really kills me, is that there’s no choice to be made. I don’t need a movie to know what happens next.
I’m going to Northwestern.
I’m going to get my apartment and my dogs and my new friends. I’ll wear boat shoes and bike to class. I’ll get new nicknames and tattoos and drink too much and he won’t be there. I’m going to have to find a way to be happy without Bash. The guy who taught me what happy meant. The guy who got me to stand up for myself. The guy who’s always been too good for this town. The best.
If you ask around school, ask about Bash, people always say the same thing.
“Villeda? He’s the best.”
He was so many people to so many people but always stayed “the best.”
But I wonder what people would say if you asked them why. What makes him the best? The gold medals? The college scouts? His body? His jokes? That’s all great but only a few people get to see the real reasons. Because the rumors are true. Bash is the best. He’s the best reading partner. He’s the best dining companion. He’s the best pillow on a cold night.
Bash is the best friend I’ve ever had.
But now he’s the world’s problem. Give it a year and I’m sure everyone at Nova will say the same thing about Sebastian Villeda. And they won’t know how lucky they are. Because they’re going to see how great he’ll become. How much he’ll keep growing. And I can only hope I do the same.
Ninety.
My birthday fell on prom which gave us the perfect excuse to ditch prom. Our first excuse was neither of us knew who was supposed to ask who but that was more of a joke anyway. It’s great it worked out this way, though, because I think we both wanted an out.
We ended up at the ditch after practice one day, sharing an Italian hoagie like a joint, when he finally brought it up. “It’s not that I don’t want people at school to know about us.”
“Really? I don’t.”
“Okay, sweet, me neither.” He laughed and passed me the hoagie. “It just seems like a lot right now, you know?”
“For sure. Plus, even if we just go as friends...”
“People talk.”
“And those people talk to other people who talk to more people and bababababa.”
“Exactly. Bababababa. Like, I wanna know who knows.”
“Yeah...” I could feel a bug in my shorts and jumped up to shake it out. “Ma knows.”
Bash sat up. “Really?”
“Yeah. I mean, she’s not bouncing around saying the words ‘My son is a gay’ but she keeps coming up to my room. To talk. She always asks about you. Us.”
“Huh. Does she approve?”
“Oh, you’d know if she didn’t.”
Bash nodded. I think he was pleased he passed the test.
I was still shaking my legs and shorts when he spoke with a mouth full of hoagie. “Del knows too.”
I stopped shake-dancing. The bug could wait. “Whoa.”
“Right?”
“Does he...approve?”
“Of me? Sure.”
“Of me.”
“Nah, Del hates your hairy ass.”
We laughed because Del has made it clear he prefers me to Bash. I felt the invading bug somewhere around my hip and jumped back into action.
“Just take your shorts off.”
“No!”
“Why?”
“I know your tricks, Villeda.”
“It’s a silly rule.”
“Silly?” I made a clear and hard rule after Halloween that we would keep the ditch a dick-free zone. It was good for reading, eating, and talking but Mother Nature (and any possible wandering Moorestownians) didn’t need to see our bare asses. “The ditch is sacred ground.”
At the end of the battle, I discovered the bug was an ant. He was a worthy adversary and died somewhere around my waistband. I joined Bash on the incline and finished off the hoagie. He brushed some grass out of my hair and I put it back in his.
“Hey. I was thinking ’bout telling Ronny. And Phil. The band.”
“About...oh. About you?”
“I thought it might be something they should know. I think I want to tell them about me.”
Bash sat up on his elbows. Really considered it. I knew he wouldn’t be leaping at the idea but I’d run the numbers in my head. His numbers. And I knew I had a fifty-fifty shot at him being okay with the concept. Even if I was only outing myself, Phil and Ronny would inevitably connect the dots. But Phil’s on the team and Ronny’s no gossip. They wouldn’t spread my shit. Our shit. Also, biggest plus, those two don’t talk to anyone they hate and that’s just about everyone in this one-horse town.
“I wanted to ask first. If you’d be okay with that. It’s okay if you’re not, I just wanted to run it by you first.”
Bash shrugged. “I mean...it’s your...you know, journey. Or whatever. You don’t need my permission, Dro.”
“I think I do though. I do.” I got up on my elbows too. “My journey’s your journey, man. My shit’s your shit, that’s what I signed up for.”
Bash stared up at the canopy above us. Shielding us and the ditch from the rest of the world. Our little island in the stream.
He smiled. “I like Phil. And Ronny. I like seeing you with them. It’s like they’re the people you would’ve found if you weren’t...you know.”
“Trapped in a linebacker’s body? Cursed with tree trunk legs? Built like I live on top of a beanstalk?”
“I was gonna say ‘sporty’ but go off.”
I snorted laughing. And he let out those machine-gun cackles. He took my face and gave it a kiss. One on each cheek then a quickie on the lips.
“They deserve to know. You deserve to tell your people.”
I rubbed my forehead on his. “I’ll make sure they don’t give you too much shit.”
“I don’t know if that’s possible. They shit on everything.”
“Everything All the Time.”
I smiled and put my head in his lap. He scratched my back and we just breathed for a minute. He smiled down at me. Devious. Plotting.
I laughed. “That’s a weird face.” He nodded. “...Why the weird face?”
“’Cause.”
“’Cause?”
“’Cause I still owe you a date.”
When the day of the legendary first date arrived, I’d concocted this whole game plan. A strategy on how to maneuver about the minefield that is my home without my brothers or dad or any rogue child asking questions. Asking what I was up to. Why I was getting all dolled up. It involved distraction, diversion, there was a point where I considered setting a fire, but it was all for nothing. An hour out, I left my room to snag a pair of dress socks from Raph but found the house was completely empty.
I poked my head down the stairs. “HEY!”
It echoed. “HEY! WHO’S HOME?!”
Nothing. That was weird. That never happened. Not a scream nor shout nor ESPN highlight blared from the first floor.
“HEY, THERE’S A FIRE UP—”
A hand slapped my shoulder. Ma hurried by me, a bundle of clothes in her arms. “Stop hollering, we’re on a time crunch.”
She was heading up my stairs before I could ask a follow-up. “Where is everyone?”
“Out. You gonna shave?”
“Wha...why would—”
She laid out a nice white button-up on my bed and some dress pants. “Alessandro, you are not going out looking like some college freshman slob, shave your fucking face.”
Ma hung a very handsome sports coat on my desk. It looked like my dad’s from fifty pounds and twenty years ago. She busted out a lint roller and gave the coat a focus she usually saves for open houses or Tax Day.
“Your dad’s on-site all day, won’t be home till after dinner. I got him to let Gio help him out, drove GJ to his buddy’s, and Raph took the little ones to the Funplex. Place’s half-off all month. Who knew?”
I gotta admit, I was a little speechless. “So...we got the house to ourselves?”
Ma stopped rolling and smiled at me. “If a boy’s gonna take my son on his very first date, that boy’s gonna ring the goddamn doorbell. None of that end-of-the-driveway shit you two’ve been doing.”
I didn’t have time to tear up. But I found time to hug her first.
Growing up, watching the movies for boys not like me, I learned to expect certain things out of a first date. I’d have to drive to a girl’s house and have an awkwardly stern conversation with her father. He would ask me about sports and the weather, all with the weird subtext that I was not to fuck his precious property. She’d come down the stairs slowly and I’d say something cheesy like:
“Wow. You look beautiful.”
Her mom would take a picture and her dad would tell me to have her home by eight. We would see a movie, maybe something scary, and I would hold her hand somewhere around Act 2. We’d walk in a park, maybe grab an ice cream cone, and I’d kiss her under a tree.
But my life wasn’t a movie. There was no roadmap for this shit. I had no idea how to follow the rules of a first date because they never made rules for boys like me. Boys like me just had to wing it.
I was waiting by the door but I let him ring the bell anyway. I’d texted him ahead of time that we wouldn’t have to sneak around tonight and he was just as excited as me. After the second ring, I opened the door and we just stared at each other. Took in each other’s efforts. Ma had put me in about five different outfits before settling back on my dad’s black sports coat. I’d obliged and shaved for her but I really despise my face bare. I look like a giant baby. Plus, it grows back in seconds like The Santa Clause so what’s the point?
I’m glad I listened to Ma though. Just for the look on his face.
Bash was wearing a sweater and khakis. He must’ve bought them just for the night ’cause his closet is sponsored by Under Armour. I’d never seen him like that, with his long hair all styled. He looked like the man he’d become soon. I was looking at Villanova Bash. He rubbed my bare cheek. He’d never seen my face without hair and it was like he needed to touch it. Register this new part of my body. He stopped, realizing where we were, but I grabbed his hand. Put it back on me and smiled. Took him in again.
I couldn’t stop myself from saying it. “Wow. You look beautiful.”
Bash rubbed his thumb on my cheek and kissed me.
I heard Ma from inside. “Okay, Birthday Boy, you owe me a picture.”
On instinct, Bash dropped his hand. She was standing by the stairs, holding a camera. I groaned. “Ma, c’mon, we’re gonna be late.”
We were truly pushing time on our reservation but I really just wanted to give Bash an excuse. Maybe myself one too. Ma was holding the family camera, after all. And while I’d love a picture to remember that moment, we were treading in unknown waters. Because I’d found a path back to my mother. You could even say I’m on the way to forgiving her. But I could only see that path once she started talking to me. Once she apologized, made an effort. The path to the rest of my family is harder to see. My brothers and father still feel like something to outmaneuver. A problem to overcome. A wrong not so easy to forgive. And I couldn’t shake the feeling that something as simple as a picture in my foyer could turn into evidence under our roof.
“Use my phone.” Bash was walking over to Ma before I could overthink the moment to death. “It’ll just be for us. You know?”
Ma smiled and took his phone. She understood what he was really saying. “Good idea, Sebastian. You look very handsome tonight.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Miceli.”
I joined Bash by the steps and stood by his side. We smiled and Ma took a few.
“Aww, so sweet. You look like the best of friends.” She waved at us to get closer. “Now, look like you like each other, damn it.”
I sighed and Bash laughed. He grabbed my arm and put it around his shoulder. I did him one better and moved it around his waist. Ma gave us the thumbs-up. “Better. Handsome boys.”
Ma took a few, really getting us at all angles. After about a minute, she scrolled through her handiwork. I think she was getting choked up.
“Ma.”
“Shut up, Dro, I’m fucking human.”
We all laughed. Bash took his phone back and Ma saw us off. She got us into Birdie and watched from the porch as we started in on Mile One of our driveway. I kept an eye on her from the rearview and I don’t think she ever stopped smiling.
Bash noticed. “She seems good.”
I slipped my hand into his as my farmhouse faded into nowhere. “Yeah. She’s in our corner.”
The path back to my family might be hard to make out in the dark. But for the first time in a long time, I had hope. Because my mom could stop the earth on its axis if she really tried. That’s just the kind of person she is. She’s always trying. And now she was trying for me.
We went to Rossi’s, this fancy Italian place I’d only ever been when my grandparents were in town. It’s a bit of a drive, a few towns over, which really made it special. No one would know us there. We could be anyone.
Dominic Natoli and his partner Daniel Branch flashed their legitimate Michigan IDs to the waiter and enjoyed a bottle of red with their steaks. Local restaurateur Dominic Natoli was a bit of an oenophile and knew how to order off-menu. Eight-time gold medalist Daniel Branch had a big Olympics in the morning so he made sure to carbo-load on complimentary bread. Danny and Dom were a winning pair. They referred to each other as “my partner” without any hesitation and housed twenty-five rescue dogs in their Philadelphian brownstone.
I chuckled at the idea of a future with Bash. He was still inspecting his fake. “Told you they’d work, Mr. Natoli.”
I snapped back to reality and sipped my wine. “I think the waiter pitied us, Mr. Branch.”
He laughed and put the card away. “You know... I was thinking ’bout actually changing it. For real. Taking Del’s name.”
“Villeda no mas? Por qué?”
He shrugged and cut up his steak. “I don’t remember my mom as Simone Villeda. She was Mrs. Branch. Married to Mr. Branch. It just feels right. Should’ve done it years ago.”
“Bash Branch.” I admired the sentiment but the name sounded iffy in my mouth.
He shook his head. “Sebastian. Sebastian Branch.”
That felt better. It felt right, moving forward. That outfit, the hair, his smile. That was Sebastian Branch.
“A strong biblical name. Salute.” We clinked our glasses and drank. We’d already killed our first bottle. “I’m still calling you Bash though.”
“Fair. I like that though. It’s like how Del and Luce call me Seb. You’ll call me Bash. Nova peeps’ll call me Sebastian. Different names for different chapters.”
Different chapters. That’s a good way of putting it. How I was feeling. I was someone in the middle of Bash’s story. One day, I’d be someone he used to know. Important but past tense.
“Dro? What’s up?”
I shook my head. “...I coulda known you my whole life, Bash.” Bash stopped drinking. “You were right across town. We could’ve had years. We could’ve...we could’ve had more than a chapter, you know? I just... I wish we had more time.”
I thought about Ma in my attic. All that time we wasted never talking. How much better our family could’ve been if we just figured our shit out earlier. So much wasted time. That noise in my stomach and my chest pounded against my skin and everything just seemed pointless all of the sudden. Why should I enjoy what won’t last? What’s a first date without a future?
“Hey.” Bash put his hand in mine. “At least we got this part right.”
I was standing by a bonfire with him again. Nine months ago. At the beginning of this road. Watching a party devolve into a blur. My words echoed in my head.
“It was supposed to be more than this, right? This part of our lives? Sometimes I feel like I did this part wrong.”
I closed my hand around Bash’s. Not Daniel’s, not Sebastian’s, Bash’s hand. This person who knew me. Who heard me. Who I didn’t want to let go.
“I don’t want to stop, Bash.”
Bash smiled. Like the answer to all this unknown was so simple. “Then we won’t.”
I chuckled. “What, we just stay at this table for the rest of our lives?”
“We have phones. Weekends. I have a car.”
“Long distance?”
“Why not?”
“’Cause it doesn’t work. It’ll ruin it.”
“Says who?”
“Says everybody. Kids at school. My brothers. Every movie ever.”
Bash just shrugged. So simply. “I’ve never seen a movie about guys like us.”
There are no movies about guys like us. There are no rules for guys like us. No precedent. No data. Without a roadmap, we had no idea what might happen next. And maybe that wasn’t a bad thing. Maybe it could be better than the movies.
I smiled. “It’s a long shot.”
He smiled. “We’ve always been lucky.”
If anyone could make long distance work, it’s a runner.
We kissed in the parking lot and I couldn’t stop. Wouldn’t. Didn’t have to. The stereo blared Ronny’s demo the entire drive, windows down, and I never let go of his hand. Never stopped singing. We didn’t have to stop. We could try. We would try for each other. That’s all I wanted. Someone to try with me.
The noise in my chest poured out the open window, screaming Green Day and blink-182 all over the turnpike. Bash screamed along with me, our noises in harmony. We must’ve looked stupid, but we forgot to notice. We let our voices tear into the night air. Because this noise can’t stay inside. That’s not what it’s for. Bash taught me that. People needed to hear it. They were going to hear it.
They were gonna hear me.