Anthony DeMarco loved throwing a party.
There was something creative about the whole process. Putting together a guest list, coming up with a theme, ordering the food, deciding what you were going to wear, then watching as your guests arrived and seeing how they interacted with each other.
It was kind of like directing a movie. In your mind, you saw how the movie needed to be set up before being filmed. From the sets to the costumes to the actors. All the elements were pulled together and put into place. And then action!
Anthony loved movies. What he wanted more than anything else was to work in the movie business after college.
Like the best movies, the best parties always had some sort of drama. Either a couple had just broken up and they were seeing each other for the first time or someone’s ex-boyfriend showed up with a new girlfriend and the ex-girlfriend pretended she didn’t care but she really did and either tried to make her ex-boyfriend jealous with another guy or started a catfight with the new girlfriend.
Tonight’s party was a little low-key. Everyone was reconnecting from being away for the summer. Most of the girls were showing off their summer tans in outfits that left little to the imagination. Lots of short shorts, miniskirts, halter tops and cropped T-shirts that bared midriffs and exposed toned tummy muscles.
The guys were exposing just as much skin as the girls. There were skimpy tank tops and tight T-shirts to display buff summer chests.
Confidence was in the air. Everyone knew they looked good and they were all checking everyone else out. Looking to see who was free and available. There were lots of smiles, winks, and waves over sipped drinks.
Anthony wished he could join in the games, but as usual, there was no one for him.
He smothered a sigh. It wasn’t easy being a gay seventeen-year-old when most of your male classmates were straight with a capital S. Anthony’s close friends knew he was gay, but it wasn’t something he advertised to the world. And that world, for another year, was Peppington Prep. The last thing he wanted was one of his jock classmates to think he was looking too closely at him.
Sure, he’d met gay guys in the past. Hello! His parents worked in fashion and some of the most famous designers in the world were gay. The gay guys he’d met over the years at his parents’ office were handsome and cool and he wanted to be just like them. But older guys were off limits because of the whole age difference. Either they saw him as the boss’s kid or—and this really irked him because he was already cast in the part, thank you very much—a little brother.
Anthony knew there was a whole gay world out there—a world where there were guys just like him—but it wasn’t within reach. At least not yet. Not until he was a few years older.
Anthony knew he only had to wait another year. Once he was in college, things would be different. He’d be in a world where being gay wasn’t a big deal. But he was getting tired of waiting.
He wanted a boyfriend now.
How could he have been so stupid?! He’d had a boyfriend until he’d let his jealousy get in the way. Maybe he shouldn’t have been so quick to jump to conclusions. Maybe Ian had only been looking. Maybe he wasn’t going to cheat on him. Maybe…
No! No, no, no, no, no! He wasn’t going to think about Ian. It still hurt too much. And he wasn’t going to start beating up on himself or doubting his decision. This wasn’t some Lifetime movie. He didn’t need a guy—well, at least not a guy who was a two-timing louse. Ian was old news. Over. Done with. It was time to move on. To think about the future and the Mr. Right who was waiting for him.
If only he could find him!
Paige grabbed Anthony’s arm and gave it a squeeze, shaking him from his thoughts. “Hey! Great party!”
“You think?”
Paige nodded, sipping from a glass of punch. “Everyone’s having a blast.”
“Anthony!”
Anthony turned around to see Colleen O’Brian headed his way. She was carrying a plate filled with two cheeseburgers, ribs and a baked potato loaded with butter and sour cream. Unlike the other girls, Colleen ate what she wanted when she wanted. No carrot sticks and celery for her. She wasn’t a slave to her scale and it was the reason why she was one of Manhattan’s top plus-sized teen models.
Colleen had curves. Lots of curves. She also had a great chest. Anthony might be gay, but he knew what the straight boys liked and Colleen had dressed for battle tonight, showing off her cleavage in a hot orange bikini top that matched the sarong around her waist. She also had a great head of hair. It was shoulder length, in a gorgeous shade of red, shot with strands of gold and toffee. Tonight she was wearing her hair pushed back with a wide white headband with orange polka dots.
“Kiss, kiss,” she said, brushing cheeks with Anthony and sitting down at a patio table. “So Paige filled me in about Ian.”
Anthony glared at Paige. “Oh she did, did she?”
Colleen nodded, biting into a cheeseburger. “What a rat.”
“She asked where he was,” Paige explained. “What was I supposed to do? Lie?”
“Yes.”
“You guys broke up,” Colleen said. “Big deal. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“I’m not embarrassed. It still hurts, okay? And talking about it brings back all the unpleasant memories. Change of topic, please.”
“Okay.” Colleen finished off her first cheeseburger and started on the second. “Did I tell you I’m taking singing and dancing lessons?”
“You are? How come?”
“I’m getting tired of modeling. I’ve been doing it for two years. I’d like to maybe try some acting.”
“Tell him the truth,” Paige urged, sitting down next to Colleen and swiping one of her ribs. “Tell him, tell him, tell him!”
Colleen swatted at Paige’s hand. “Hey! Go get your own.”
Paige ignored Colleen and began nibbling on the rib. “Tell him or else I will.”
“Tell me what?” Anthony asked.
“Colleen wants to audition for Hairspray next year when the actress who’s playing Tracy Turnblad leaves the show.”
“Don’t you think I’d be perfect for the part?” Colleen asked, her emerald-green eyes lighting up.
“Absolutely,” Anthony said and meaning it. “Everyone loved you last spring at the Talent Show when you sang that song from Dreamgirls.”
“What was it again?” Paige asked.
“‘And I Am Telling You I’m Not Going,’” Colleen said.
“Did you know they’re making it into a movie?” Anthony asked.
“No!!!!” Colleen squealed excitedly. “That’s fabulous. Another plus-sized girl on the big screen. Effie is a role I’d kill for.”
“You better keep your career plans to yourself,” Anthony advised, “or a certain set of twins will suddenly decide to start overeating.”
“Huh?”
“Shhhh.” Anthony put a finger to his lips as Bianca and Rachel Torres joined the table.
As usual, the twins looked gorgeous. Like they had just stepped off the cover of a fashion magazine. Of course, Anthony knew they’d had a little help from their stylist. And makeup artist. And hairdresser.
Even though the twins had identical features—from their wavy jet-black hair, brown eyes and light brown skin—they differentiated themselves by the clothes they wore. Bianca usually went for a sexier look, showing off a lot of skin, while Rachel showed less.
Tonight Bianca was wearing frayed denim shorts that barely reached the top of her legs, high-heeled sandals and a T-shirt that said: TELL YOUR BOYFRIEND TO STOP CALLING ME! She’d also given herself big hair, teasing out her waves. Anthony thought she looked deliciously trashy. Rachel, on the other hand, had gone for a more subdued look. She was wearing a white tennis skirt and sleeveless red blouse with her hair in a French braid.
Anthony had been friends with the twins since kindergarten. One day he’d forgotten his lunch on the school bus and when it was lunchtime, no one would share with him. Except the twins. Bianca had offered him half of her tuna fish sandwich while Rachel had shared her potato chips and given him sips of milk from her Thermos. From that day on, Anthony had sworn his allegiance to the twins. Yes, they were airheads and they drove him batty with their schemes to become famous, and sometimes they were a little selfish and self-centered, but deep down, they had hearts of gold, and that meant something to Anthony.
He’d never forget the time in the sixth grade when a representative from Toys for Tots had visited Peppington Prep, explaining about the program and how it provided Christmas gifts for underprivileged children. After they’d selected names from the Christmas tree provided, Bianca and Rachel had asked what happened to the names that weren’t picked. When they were told that sometimes not all the children received a Christmas gift, the twins had been horrified and had instantly taken all the names off the tree.
To this day, every December, the twins still gave an abundance of gifts to Toys for Tots.
“You’ll never guess where we were today!” Bianca exclaimed. “You’ll never ever guess!”
“We were at MTV!” Rachel screamed before anyone could answer. “Auditioning for their new reality show, ‘Working Girl.’”
“‘Working Girl?’” Anthony asked. “What’s that?”
“It’s this show where rich girls are going to be put in horrible situations,” Bianca said. “Like working as a waitress in a diner or washing clothes in a laundromat.”
“Not only that, but we’re going to have to live like working girls,” Rachel said. “You know, with their families in tiny apartments where there’s only one bathroom.”
“And probably no running hot water!” Bianca chimed in.
“Or elevators. We’ll have to take the stairs to reach our apartment.”
“And we won’t be able to bring any of our own clothes. We’re going to have to wear outfits that are mass-produced.” Bianca shuddered. “Can you imagine?”
“How ever will you survive?” Colleen commented while licking barbecue sauce off her fingers.
“What happens to the working girls?” Anthony asked. “Do they get to live your lives while you’re living theirs?”
Bianca shook her head. “Oh, no. Can you imagine? It would be too much of a shock. All that luxury. I think they get sent to a spa or something.”
“Maybe a trip to Disney World,” Rachel said. “Or wherever they film those Girls Gone Wild videos.”
“Ooooh! An opportunity for them to get some extra work!” Colleen exclaimed.
“They don’t pay the girls in those videos,” Bianca said. “Duh!”
Colleen gave Bianca a sly smile. “But it’s great exposure. Some of those girls have even gone on to be stars.”
“I think you’re wrong, Colleen,” Anthony said, knowing what his friend was up to and giving her a shut up look. If Bianca and Rachel thought they could be stars by doing a Girls Gone Wild video, they’d be on the next plane to Cancun.
“You’re definitely going to be on the show?” Paige asked.
“We met with the producers today and they really liked us,” Bianca said.
“Especially when we told them we’d never done a hard day’s work in our entire lives,” Rachel added.
“They got really excited when we told them we had maids and personal assistants who do everything for us.”
“I’m going to go get some more ribs,” Colleen said, leaving the table.
Anthony decided to follow after Colleen and fix a plate for himself but stopped in his tracks when he saw who was on the opposite side of his penthouse deck.
“What’s wrong?” Paige asked, noticing the pissed expression on his face.
“Who invited him?”
Anthony glared at his uninvited guest. It was Felix Fennimore.
“Didn’t you?” Paige asked.
Anthony gave Paige a get real look. “When have I ever invited Felix to one of my parties?”
“Never,” Paige said. “I still don’t understand what the problem is between the two of you.”
The problem went all the way back to first grade when Anthony ran against Felix for class president and won. Felix, sore loser that he was, spread a rumor that Anthony ate his snot. Not to be outdone, Anthony started his own rumor. Only it was a rumor that was true.
That Felix played with Barbie dolls.
The part of the rumor that Anthony left out, though, was that when he and Felix had play dates, they both used to play with Felix’s older sister’s Barbies.
From that point on, Anthony and Felix had been rivals, always competing against each other. For grades. For friends. For awards. They pretended to like each other, but really didn’t.
And then there was the gay factor.
Felix was also gay.
Anthony had discovered that fact in eighth grade when he was down in Chelsea one Saturday and spotted Felix buying a copy of Out. Deciding that maybe it was time to mend fences, Anthony walked over to Felix and told him he had just finished reading the same issue.
“Am I supposed to be impressed or something?” Felix had asked coldly, slipping the magazine into his Louis Vuitton backpack. (Years later, Anthony would come to realize that Felix was a label queen. Everything he owned or wore had to have a designer label on it.) “Is this supposed to bond us? Sorry, I’m not the bonding type.”
With those final words, Felix had walked away, leaving Anthony alone on the corner.
Out of all the guys at Peppington Prep who could possibly be gay, why Felix? Why? Why couldn’t it be someone he liked? And not like-like— as in wanting to make out with a guy you like because you think he’s cute and you’re attracted to him. But like as in “I like you as a person and want to be your friend.”
“He’s probably here to get some news for his gossip column,” Paige said.
Felix penned Peppington Prep’s school gossip column In the Know, writing all about the social lives of his classmates. Often there were also blind items in which secrets that were meant to be kept were exposed. That was the main reason why the column was a favorite with everyone at Peppington Prep and got Felix invited to all the best parties.
It also didn’t hurt that Felix’s father was head of programming at the Cooking Channel. He was responsible for bringing such hit shows as “Yummy for Your Tummy,” “Everything Chocolate” and “Hot Italian Mamas” to the air. His latest success was a TV show featuring celebrity chef Steve Coulter. People magazine had recently named Steve their Sexiest Man Alive.
“I know you and Felix don’t get along,” Paige said, “but he’s always been nice to me.”
“That’s because he’s waiting for the two of us to have a huge fight!” Anthony exclaimed. “When that happens he’ll move in for the kill, hoping you’ll spill all my secrets so he can print them!”
“You know, this is going to sound crazy, but I think Felix might like you.”
“What?!”
“Think about it. He’s always worming his way into your life. Why else would he do that?”
“Because he likes making me miserable. It’s what he lives for.”
Paige shrugged. “If you say so.”
“I say so. Me and Felix? A couple?” Anthony shuddered. “Brrr!”
Felix had caught sight of Anthony and waved to him. There was no mistaking the smug smile on his face. He knew he hadn’t been invited to the party and he knew that Anthony knew he knew that.
“What are you going to do?” Paige asked, nervously biting her lower lip.
Well, he’d wanted a party with drama. And now he was going to get it.
Anthony turned back to Paige. “I’m going to go tell my uninvited guest that the party is over for him.”
“You can’t throw him out!”
“Just watch me.”
Anthony left Paige’s side and went across to the other side of the deck. There was no mistaking Felix. From his sun-streaked blond hair to his rich dark tan and blue eyes, to his sky blue tie-dyed shorts and white tank top (all designer names, of course), he had the California beach boy look down pat. Anthony was pleased to note that, unlike some of the other hotties at the party, Felix didn’t have the muscles to fill out his tank top. He was as skinny as a string bean.
“Felix! What are you doing here?” Anthony was smiling, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes.
“Tony!” Felix gushed. “Fab party! Love the eats.”
Anthony gritted his teeth. If there was one thing he absolutely hated, it was being called Tony. And Felix knew that. No one called him Tony. It was so Brooklyn-sounding—like John Travolta’s character in Saturday Night Fever—and he was a Manhattan boy!
“I’m surprised to see you.”
“You are?” Felix plunged a toothpick into a chunk of cheese and popped it into his mouth. “I tagged along with Bianca and Rachel. We ran into each other at J. Crew and they mentioned coming over. My invitation probably got lost in the mail.”
“It didn’t get lost,” Anthony said. “It was never…”
The rest of the words died in Anthony’s throat. Felix was totally forgotten. Instead, Anthony’s attention was completely focused across the terrace on one of the cutest, most adorable guys he had ever seen. He was wearing jeans and a loose baseball jersey with the number 10 on the front. It was probably some famous baseball player’s number, but Anthony knew zip about sports. On his head was a baseball cap that was worn backwards. How had he missed noticing this guy all night?!
“It was never what?” Felix asked.
“Huh?” Anthony asked, feeling like he’d just woken up from a deep sleep. He tried to focus on Felix’s face but he kept looking over his shoulder at Baseball Jersey Guy.
“My invitation?” Felix prodded.
All Anthony wanted to do at that moment was make a beeline across the terrace and find out the name of the new guy. But he couldn’t do that until he got rid of Felix. Quickly. If Felix got a look at this cutie…well, Anthony suddenly had a vision of the Big Bad Wolf drooling over the Three Little Pigs!
“It didn’t get lost,” Anthony said, wondering how he could steer Felix in the direction of the front door.
Felix speared another chunk of cheese. “It didn’t? Then I guess I should leave. I wouldn’t want to be accused of being a party-crasher.”
Anthony couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Felix never gave in. He had to be up to something.
“Let me just find Max and we’ll leave.”
“Max?”
“You haven’t met Max? Oh, you have to! He’s a great guy!” Felix scanned the deck of partygoers and then his blue eyes lit up. “There he is.”
Anthony followed Felix’s pointed finger and his mouth almost dropped open. “That’s Max?”
“That’s Max,” Felix proudly stated. “Not bad to look at, is he?”
No! Anthony wanted to wail. No!!! Max was the cutie across the terrace. Baseball Jersey Guy. His future boyfriend! Was Cupid laughing at him? Was this some sort of cosmic practical joke? There couldn’t be any other explanation. The one guy he was interested in had come to his party with Felix!
Felix waved to Max, who waved back and walked over in their direction.
There was something vaguely familiar about Max but Anthony couldn’t put his finger on what it was. He felt like he’d already met him but that was impossible. There was no way he’d forget a cutie like this! Where had Felix met this guy? He wasn’t a student at Peppington Prep. Could he be Felix’s boyfriend? Anthony bit back a groan. Life couldn’t be that unfair!
Felix noticed the puzzled expression on Anthony’s face. “You feel like you’ve met him before, but you don’t know where, right?”
“Right,” Anthony admitted.
“You haven’t been reading your Teen People, have you, Tony? Max is the son of Steve Coulter. You know who Steve is, don’t you? My father gave the greenlight to his TV show, ‘Delicious.’”
That’s who it was! Max was a younger, less sculpted version of his muscular, macho father. Unlike other TV chefs, who advocated healthy cooking, Steve used only the most fattening ingredients in his dishes and owned a restaurant in Los Angeles. The catch-phrase on his show, which was now known from coast to coast, was: “It’s supposed to taste good.” Female—and male—fans were known to throw their underwear at him (along with hotel room keys).
“Max’s father is opening a new restaurant in New York,” Felix explained. “He’s going to be here for at least a year, overseeing things, and he decided to bring his entire family. He’s also writing his first cookbook and wants to be close to his publisher. Max is living in my building and he’ll be going to Peppington Prep. When I heard about your party from the twins, I didn’t think you’d mind if I came along and brought a guest. You know, to help him fit in and feel welcome.”
So he wasn’t Felix’s boyfriend. If he was, he was sure Felix would have dropped that little tidbit. Over the last year, Anthony had run into Felix on more than one occasion outside of school and he was always with a hot-looking guy who he made a point of introducing to Anthony as his boyfriend. Anthony always felt like one of Cinderella’s ugly stepsisters when that happened.
“Hey Felix!” Max said, joining his side and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “What’s up?”
“We have to leave, Max.”
“Leave?” A puzzled look washed over Max’s face. “But we just got here.”
Anthony was relieved to notice that up close, Max was just as adorable as he had been from far away. Phew! Some guys suffered from FAB syndrome. They were Far Away Beauties who looked good from a distance but when they got closer…yikes!
Like his father, Max had chocolate brown eyes and a chiseled cleft in his chin. He took off his baseball cap and ran a hand through his dark brown hair. Despite wearing a baseball cap, it was perfectly styled and fell neatly into place. His face was totally smooth and…was that cologne he was wearing? Anthony took a tiny step closer to Max and sniffed discreetly. Yes, it was! And expensive stuff, too!
“Are we leaving for another party?” Max asked.
Anthony couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Leave?! You can’t leave!”
“But I didn’t get an invitation to the party,” Felix pointed out.
Anthony’s mind scrambled for an answer. “You weren’t on the guest list because you’re not a guest. You’re one of my oldest friends. You didn’t get an invitation in the mail because I was going to call and personally invite you.”
Felix looked at Anthony skeptically. “Oh, you were?”
“Of course! How could I have a party without you, Felix?”
“You have in the past.”
“Only because you’re always off at some better party.”
“That’s true,” Felix agreed. “The other parties are always better than yours.”
Anthony ignored the dig and kept smiling. No way was he going to lose it in front of Felix.
“It’s because he doesn’t like me,” Felix whispered into Max’s ear. “Never has. Never will.”
Anthony laughed. “You’re such a kidder, Felix.” Anthony turned to Max with a smile. “Felix and I have been friends since first grade. We’re like brothers.”
Felix gave Anthony a smirk. “Don’t you mean sisters?”
Anthony ignored the comment and held his hand out to Max. “Hi, I’m Anthony DeMarco. I live here.”
Max reached for Anthony’s hand and gave him a huge smile that lit up his entire face. “Max Coulter. Nice to meet you.”
Anthony’s heart began racing madly. He did not want to let go of Max’s hand. At that moment Anthony felt like he was going to melt into a puddle. Was this what they called love at first sight?
Whoa, whoa, whoa! Where had that thought come from? He had just met Max and he didn’t know a thing about him. Time to hit the brakes.
Anthony let go of Max’s hand and smiled back at him. “I hope you’re having a good time.”
“A blast.”
“I’ll bet there are lots of people you still haven’t met. I’d be happy to introduce you.”
Felix wrapped an arm around Max’s waist and drew him closer. “That’s nice of you, Tony, but I’m sure you’re busy hosting. I’m taking care of Max tonight.”
There was no mistaking Felix’s message. Back off! Max was his. Fine. This round went to Felix. But Max was a big boy, and eventually he was going to want to play with others.
“Hey, Felix!” A blond girl wearing a coconut shell bra and grass skirt ran over, grabbing Felix by the hand. Anthony didn’t recognize her; she must have come with someone he invited. “You have to come with me. Sherry’s confessing all about her summer vacation in Maui. There’s at least three columns’ worth of stuff. Come on!”
It was clear to Anthony that Felix was torn. He could see he wanted to leave for some juicy dirt. But at the same time, he didn’t want to leave Anthony and Max alone. Jealousy, perhaps? Was Max gay and Felix was hoping to make him his latest boyfriend? Gay or straight. That was the question. Anthony’s gaydar, which was usually quite reliable, wasn’t working. With just a look, he could usually tell if a guy was gay or straight. If someone asked him to explain what gaydar was, he wouldn’t know how. When you’re gay, you just know when someone else is. You could recognize it by their style. Or flair. Or a unique sense of individuality. It might be the fact that their hair is dyed or the clothes that they wear are over the top or it’s the amount of jewelry they have on. Or it could be the way they walk and talk. Gaydar was an instinct that was inside you and allowed you to identify with others who were just like you.
But Anthony couldn’t figure out if Max was gay or straight. Despite the casual outfit Max was wearing, it was in perfect condition. It wasn’t grungy and wrinkly the way it would be if a straight guy was wearing it. And he was groomed to perfection.
But that didn’t mean anything. Ever since the arrival of the metrosexual—straight guys who care about their appearance—Anthony had been having problems with his gaydar. On more than one occasion he’d pegged a guy as gay and been proven wrong when the guy’s girlfriend came along. He knew there were some gay guys who couldn’t dress to save their lives, but the ones with money usually could, and since Steve Coulter was Max’s father, he probably had a wallet full of credit cards and a closet full of designer clothes.
And he did come to the party with Felix. And Felix had been awfully touchy-feely with Max. Maybe tonight was their first date. For a second, Anthony had a flashback to his first official date with Ian. He felt a huge wave of sadness approaching, but immediately blocked it off, looking over his shoulder for Paige.
Anthony saw Paige staring at him and Max from across the deck with wide, excited eyes. She pointed to Max, who had his back to her, and opened her mouth. It wasn’t hard to figure out the word she was saying.
“Yum!”
“Felix? Are you coming?” Coconut Girl asked, tugging on his arm.
Reluctantly, Felix allowed himself to be dragged off, leaving Anthony and Max alone.
After Felix left, there was an awkward moment of silence. Anthony didn’t know what to say. He knew what he wanted to say, but couldn’t. Can I hug you? Can I kiss you? Will you please be my boyfriend?!
“How are you liking New York City?” Anthony finally asked.
Max shrugged. “It’s okay. It’s strange not having a car, though. Back home in L.A., I used to drive around everywhere. Here, I just hop on a subway or bus. Or I walk.”
“You must miss your friends.”
Max nodded. “Yeah, I do. But I’ll make new ones.” Max gave Anthony a smile. “Can I ask you something personal?”
“Sure. Anything.” He’s going to ask me if I’m gay. Or he’s going to ask me if I have a boyfriend and if I don’t would I want to go out on a date. Maybe catch a movie some night. Or maybe…
“Does everyone call you Tony?”
Anthony’s bubble popped. So much for his overactive imagination. “Felix is the only one who calls me that. And he knows I can’t stand it. Everyone else calls me Anthony.”
“Mind if I call you Ants? I have a friend out in California called Anthony and you remind me of him. I used to call him Ants.”
You can call me anything you want, Anthony wanted to say. Is California Anthony gay? Is that why I remind you of him? “Ants is fine. Some of my cousins call me that. And my brother.”
“What’s it like having parents who are famous designers?”
“No different than having a father who’s a famous chef, I guess. Does he cook at home the way he does on TV?”
“Just about. He’s the only one in our family who can cook. My mom and I are hopeless in the kitchen.”
“I guess that means you’re not planning to follow in his footsteps?”
Max laughed. “Are you kidding? I can’t even boil water. Felix’s father had the idea of having me guest on the show with Dad. You can call it the lost episode of ‘Delicious.’ It never aired, it was such a disaster. I almost bled to death slicing a tomato.”
“You’re kidding!”
“I’m not. I nicked my wrist with a carving knife and it wouldn’t stop bleeding. And then I burned the turkey in the oven. No, I’ll be ordering take-out for the rest of my life. Unless I become a famous actor and then I can have a live-in chef.”
“You want to be an actor?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Peppington Prep has a great drama club.” Anthony waited to see what Max would say. Most straight guys avoided the drama club at all costs. Unless they were looking to score with the girls who joined.
Last year Anthony had toyed with the idea of joining the drama club, but in the end decided not to. He didn’t want to be an actor and he didn’t have much interest in plays or musical theater; he preferred film—less room for mistakes. Not a good place to find a boyfriend if you didn’t have the same interests.
“I’ll have to check it out,” Max said.
Ooookay, Anthony resolved, this situation would definitely involve further investigating. A straight guy willingly joining the drama club and not being blackmailed into it by a teacher? Then again, Max could be devoted to his craft. Hmmm. Maybe he’d have to rethink his own interest in the performing arts.
After all, if Max did “play for the same team,” he was going to need a boyfriend who could support him. Root for him. Encourage him as he pursued his acting. Right?
And he could do a lot better than having love ’em and leave ’em Felix Fennimore for a boyfriend.
In fact, a nice Italian boy like himself would be perfect!