CHAPTER twenty-four

 

Gideon

On the bus ride home the next day, Gideon’s hands were all over Mac, in a loving way. Massaging his shoulder, rubbing his leg. He didn’t care how they looked. He was emboldened with a need to help the man he cared about.

“I thought about you,” Gideon said to Mac. The bus drove through an endless stretch of deserted highway in Pennsylvania. “Over the years, sometimes the thought of you would pop into my head. I would pass you on campus, and I would have these fleeting moments where I wondered about what would’ve happened if I let you keep kissing me freshman year.”

Mac interlocked their fingers in a tight grip. “You don’t have to wonder anymore.”

They snuck a kiss while those around them were glued to their smartphones and tablets.

“I thought of you, too,” Mac said. “I hated it. Whenever I made friends with a guy in my class, I heard your stupid voice in the back of my head, telling me I was out of my mind thinking we could actually be friends.”

Gideon wanted to smack his freshman year self. Maybe Mac was out of his mind for giving Gideon a second chance. But he wouldn’t screw this one up.

Mac rested his head against Gideon’s shoulder and fell asleep for part of the journey. Gideon loved being his pillow. A man in the row across the way shot them a look that cut Gideon to the bone. He hated that this stranger made him feel that way, but he wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction he wanted. He turned to the window. He knew on some level, the whispers would always be with them. The world was changing, but not fast enough.

“We’ll figure out what to do with your stuff,” Gideon said. “Don’t worry about your parents. Don’t give them another thought. They don’t deserve your energy.”

Mac gave him an uneasy smile. It was the same reaction Gideon noticed when he brought this up earlier. His face drained of color like it had in Aunt Rita’s house. Gideon thought he would be more excited that someone was standing up for him to his parents.

Gideon kissed his ear. What Mac needed most right now was support, and Gideon was happy to be the supportive boyfriend. “It’s going to be okay.”

They reached the Welcome to Duncannon sign. Gideon felt his body clench up a touch. Back in the real world, where Gideon Saperstein didn’t canoodle with his male ex-roommate.

Φ

Seth was a very methodical dribbler. He seemed to go into deep thought and used the rhythm of the bouncing ball to coordinate his attack.

“Sometime this century, man. Or else I’m going to steal.” Gideon only pretended to play defense. He used these extra seconds to prepare himself for coming out to his friend.

“You can try to steal. Doesn’t mean you’re going to be—”

Gideon stole the ball and dribbled up to do an easy lay up. He bounced it back to Seth. “Eight-four.”

Seth returned to his methodical dribbling. Gideon was dribbling in a way. He found himself stalling all night long. This was Seth. His best friend. He was cool with Mac, but maybe that was because Mac was Delia’s friend, not his.

Gideon feared the whispers. The whispers could be non-verbal. They could be the different looks Seth would give him, or maybe Seth wouldn’t want to change in the locker room with him anymore.

He blinked, and Seth dribbled around him and sunk a two-pointer.“You’re off your game,” Seth said. “Eight-five.”

“I just…I figured I had to let you score just a little to make it a fair fight.”

Seth checked the ball to Gideon who immediately spun around him and headed for the basket.

“So where were you these past few days?” Seth asked. “Did you go home or something?”

The ball hit Gideon’s shoe and almost rolled away, but he caught it. “I did. I had to see my mom.”

“A week before we’re out for winter vacation?”

“Yeah. It was nothing. I just had a funeral.” That was kind of the truth. “My Great-Uncle Mort. He was ninety-two. So I went back to Westchester for the funeral and to sit shiva.” Gideon couldn’t stop. He had gotten used to lying so much throughout his life that it was second nature. Once he started a lie, he had to keep unraveling it. Watching his friend believe him made his heart ache.

“I’m sorry, man.”

“It’s fine. He was old.” Gideon dribbled up to the basket. He didn’t take the shot. He thought about all the shots he never took.

“I’m sure he was a great guy. I lost my grandpa almost a year ago. He was ninety-nine, but it still hurt.”

“It’s…” Gideon kept dribbling. “Yeah, the service was nice. People made speeches.”

STOP

But Gideon couldn’t. This was what he did. Lies on top of lies. Giving the people the stories they wanted.

Oh that Gideon. He traveled home on a moment’s notice to be by his family’s side when his great uncle Mort passed away. He’s such a good son. He’s not “going through anything.” He’s always doing swell.

“Are you going to take the shot?” Seth asked.

Gideon bounced the ball up and down. He chucked it against the wall. The slamming sound echoed in the gymnasium. The ball rolled down the court. Seth didn’t touch it.

“Um, I think you airballed.”

Gideon went to the wall. He leaned forward, like he going to hurl. How was lying so easy and so freaking hard at the same time? His stomach and head were sandbags being dragged across the ground.

Seth’s shoes squeaked over to Gideon. “Let me get you some water.”

“No,” Gideon said.

“You miss him, don’t you?”

He shook his head no. He took deep breaths. “There is no Great-Uncle Mort.”

“I was talking about Mac.”

Gideon flung himself straight up, like a rubber band snapping back into place. He and Seth exchanged a look that dug deeper than their friendship had ever gone.

“The last time we played basketball, and I told you about Mac and Rafe, well…you seemed jealous. Really jealous.” Seth shrugged his shoulders, and Gideon saw the infinite wisdom of his friend. He had been watching the whole time.

“I…I really like him.” Telling the truth helped him breathe better. Unlike lies, where he had to keep telling them, there was only one version of the truth. “I was in Pittsburgh. I went to Mac’s aunt’s funeral and told him how I felt.”

Gideon bounced on his toes. More truth! “Delia told me about his aunt passing away. She’s known about Mac and me for a while.”

“So I was the only one who didn’t know?”

“I’m sorry, man.”

Seth didn’t seem mad. More of a little brother feeling left out of the cool older brother stuff.

“You don’t know how hard this is, not telling anyone.” And Gideon braced himself for the biggest truth of them all. “I’m gay, Seth.”

“I can’t believe I was the only one who didn’t know,” Seth said with a smile. It was the perfect reaction.

“I didn’t know how you’d react. Are you okay?”

Seth hugged him. It was the best bro hug Gideon had ever received.

“You’re happy. I’m happy.”

“Really?”

Seth looked at him as if he belonged in a mental institution. “Of course. You’re my best friend.”

Tears pooled in Gideon’s eyes. He couldn’t be crying on a basketball court. He tried to stop it, but they fell anyway. Telling the truth had possessed his body.

Seth picked up the basketball and checked it to his best friend.

“Eight-five.”

Φ

Gideon was on such a high from his game with Seth. He felt indestructible. A new version of his true life was being formed. He couldn’t wait until he got home. He had to call his brother the second he left the gym.

He sat on a bench in the freezing December cold.

“Hey,” Noah said cautiously.

Gideon wasn’t going to waste anymore time. “I’m sorry, Noah. I’m sorry I left your wedding.”

Noah didn’t say anything for a few moments, and Gideon’s throat closed up with fear. “I wish you hadn’t run.”

“Me, too.”

“You didn’t get to watch Mom cringe when they served iceberg lettuce in the salad instead of romaine.”

It felt good to laugh.

“Noah.” This would never be easy, he realized. There would always be a lump in his throat before he told people one of the most personal parts of himself. “You were right.”

“I always am.”

“I was…I mean, I am…”

“I know, brother. I know. It’s been a long road.” Noah always put everything so well. “Have you told Mom yet?”

“No. Has she said anything to you?”

“No, she’s just worried as usual.”

“Because of what you told her,” Gideon said. “When I spoke to Mom a few days ago, she said that you said I was ‘going through some stuff.’”

That had caught him off-guard during his phone call in his hotel room, more off-guard than talking to his mom while a naked guy was in his bed. He figured that it was a screw you move from Noah for ditching his wedding.

“I had to tell her something. You bailed on my wedding! She likes to worry, and you gave her something to worry about.”

Noah had a point. Gideon picked at peeling white paint on the bench. “I’ll tell her.”

He just hoped that his admission wasn’t drowned out by the whispers.

“I know you will. I say just rip off that Band-Aid.”

Noah lived his life by ripping off Band-Aids. Acting now and thinking later.

“Thanks for being an awesome big brother, Noah.”

“I’m not that awesome. I should’ve been there for you more growing up. I was so into my own shit. I kind of imploded when Dad died. I hoped you would just follow my lead, but you went in the opposite direction.”

Maybe there was a part of Noah in Gideon, a part that made Gideon kiss Mac for the first time, the part that made him book a bus ticket and hotel room five minutes after hearing about Mac’s aunt. Noah might have been a troublemaker, a vance as their grandmother would call him in Yiddish, but he followed his heart.

“There’s nobody else who I’d want as my brother,” Gideon said.

“Just ’cause you’re gay doesn’t mean you need to get all mushy on me. I’m already bawling at the first ultrasound photo.”

Gideon remembered he was going to be an uncle. “How does he or she look?”

“Like an it. Kind of like a potato.”

“Did you tell Christina’s parents yet?” Gideon got up and began his trek back to his apartment, where Mac would be waiting. His feet were nearly floating down the street.

“We just told them. We told them and showed them the ultrasound picture at the same time, to soften the blow. Her dad gave me this look that almost made me shit my pants, but now they’re focused on the baby. So it all worked out.”

“It all worked out,” Gideon said. He hoped that saying held true when he spoke to his mom, whenever that would be.