“Oliver has a friend.”
“I know. His name is Brad,” Mindy says. “We met him.”
“No, another friend,” I say, returning to my seat on the patio.
“I’m pretty sure Oliver is friends with everyone here.”
“Relax,” I say. She smiles.
The patio is pretty empty, just another two tables besides us, the crowd inside hiding from the sun. We’re several shots in—or Mindy is, and I brought us water after peeing in a bathroom that appeared to be a converted closet—a couple urinals and one nasty toilet, no stall attached. I wasn’t sure whether I was supposed to lock the door but I was afraid to touch the lock so I peed as quick as I could and used my elbows for the faucet in the sink.
“Well anyway, Oliver’s friend—I forget his name—”
“The one passing out the Jager shots?”
“Yes! Yes, him,” I say.
“I’ve had four.”
“Wait—what?” I must have miscounted.
“Well, I figure when in WeHo might as well… be a ho?” She laughs to herself. “I’m not sure where I was going with that joke but I’m not at all sober.”
“I’m not sure how you’re still standing.”
“We’re sitting, Cyrus,” she says, pointing to her elevated stool. “How many have you had?”
My feet are dangling at our patio table and my mind is spinning with everything I’ve witnessed this afternoon. I left Jeff at the bar with Brad, surrounded by chiseled muscle dudes in ridiculously tight shirts, some of them dancing but the rest of them clustered in clusters of man-flesh and it’s a lot, all at once. None of the guys are my type—they’re too old or too muscular or both—but it’s my first time inside a gay bar and I haven’t exploded yet, so I’m taking it as a good sign.
“What about Oliver’s friend?” Mindy says. “The shot guy.”
“Right,” I say, shielding my eyes from the sun over Mindy’s head. “He asked if Jeff and I were dating.”
“Uh huh.” Mindy sets down her water and contemplates.
“What?” I say.
“We talked about this!” she says. “You are out here because of Cody, right? I mean, you didn’t randomly choose a school nobody’s heard of just to be close to the beach. I didn’t even know you liked the beach.” I laugh but she’s not laughing. “Cyrus, you like him and he definitely likes you. I assume. I didn’t really talk to him last night. That was my bad. I’m drinking too much. I need to stop.”
I peek inside the bar to see if I can see Jeff, but with the sun so bright outside, I can’t see anything.
“Oh my god, you’re not even listening to me,” Mindy says, super loud. “You are obsessed with Jeff, you know that, right?”
“That’s what Courtney said when he broke up with me.”
“Exactly,” she says. The shot guy cruises past us with a tray of purple-colored Jagermeister, stopping at the neighboring table. Mindy stares him down before turning back. “I mean, I get it, you and Jeff have a history and you haven’t actually dated Cody but you’ve known him for what—two years now—and he kissed you on the lips last night after the party. I think I remember that. Was I dreaming?”
“No.” I shake my head.
“So go for it, Cyrus,” she says. “He’s out and he likes you and he’s not all conflicted like Jeff—no offense, but—” She sighs. “I don’t know. Do what you want.”
I decided to apply to schools out here because of that summer trip with Dad and Angela and Cody, on the beach in Manhattan Beach. And I decided to come to Loyola after we kissed in his bedroom at his father’s house in Hermosa. But I wanted to leave Dallastown—not just because of the excessive heat in August and the ridiculous winter snow, not just because everyone is judgmental in central PA, if you aren’t into Jesus and you happen to like boys, the opposite of here, the opposite of this. But Jeff and I always talked about leaving and I wanted to leave with him. Then Jeff and me stopped being Jeff and me and it wasn’t the same anymore, it was worse than before. Mindy is the best friend I could ever ask for, and Sharane and I became good friends but it wasn’t the same once he left. I needed to leave.
“Wow. You are literally watching Jeff right now.”
He’s dancing at the edge of the room to a Madonna song, which is not something I thought I’d ever see, but if he’s dancing inside a gay bar and he’s admitted he had feelings for me—real feelings, not just drunken kisses, then maybe he’s ready to come out. Maybe he already has. He smiles through the opening at me, his shaggy hair flopping around his face.
“It’s fine. You’re ignoring all of my advice, so I will stop offering and also this Jager guy needs to stop talking to those assholes and come back to me.”
Lady Gaga comes on over the speakers and Jeff is still dancing, surrounded by muscled men, looking out onto the patio at me.
“Cyrus.”
“Huh?”
“Jesus Christ, I’m getting another shot,” she says and gets up from her stool.
“Wait—” I say, grabbing her arm. “Maybe you should calm down.”
“Excuse me? You did not just tell me to calm down, did you?”
“No,” I say. “I mean, not like that.”
She frowns like she’s mad—mad for real—and I look to Jeff for help but he’s disappeared back into the dark of the bar.
“I meant you’ve had a lot of shots,” I say. “Maybe hold off before another one.”
“Okay, Dad,” she says. “I don’t actually have a dad because he was way too chicken shit to come to this country, thus abandoning my mother and me but that’s a story for another time.”
She tells that story all the time.
“I know I’m not your dad,” I say. “But I want to make sure you’re okay. You drank a lot last night and you’re drinking again and I’ve never seen you drink this much before.”
“Well Cyrus, you are more perceptive than expected,” she says, which sounds offensive but maybe I didn’t hear it right. “But I’m okay. I’m just—I’m a little stressed.”
“About what?”
“Ugh.” She sits back down on the stool, sipping at the water. “I’m starting college in two days—you are too, by the way—so I have concerns beyond which boy you’ll hook up with this weekend.”
“Oh my god.”
“Sorry,” she says. “Just—”
She points to two guys at the table next to us making out in broad daylight.
“Get a room!” I shout. Really, really low. Mindy laughs.
“But seriously, you have nothing to worry about. You’re Mindy, you’re awesome. You know you’re awesome. You were the valedictorian of our class.”
“Well, let me let you in on a little secret, Cyrus,” Mindy says, leaning forward on the circular surface, thick black laminate stained with beer glass rings and Jagermeister. “The awesome is sometimes an illusion. You don’t realize how much work it took to become valedictorian. Like, you know how you coasted through AP History by teaming on projects with me?”
“You noticed?” I say.
“Yes,” she says. “And it’s fine, Cyrus. I was happy to carry you, but someone had to do the work. That’s why I didn’t go out and party like Regina or Devin or some of our other friends. No offense to them, but it was hard fucking work. And it doesn’t always come naturally to me. I’m not some super genius in math, for instance, but I get by because I work hard. And I’m afraid college is going to be too hard for me.”
“Would you stop?” I say, reaching out for her arm. “You’ll be fine.”
“I know I’ll be ‘fine,’” she says. “I’m not going to fail out or anything, but what if I’m not at the top of my class? That’s not something I’m prepared for. Sharane said she already has homework and a major project to do for psychology, which she was spending all day today doing instead of partying at gay bars like we are. And she’s at Princeton, which no offense—Columbia is going to be much harder.”
“It is?”
The Jager guy is back with more shots but I give him the nod to brush him away. I think that’s what I did. I’ve never been to a bar before.
“I mean, Princeton is probably not any easier coursework-wise, it’s just that I’ll be in Manhattan and I’ll want to go to all kinds of shows and clubs and I’ll want to explore all the things I did this summer, but if I do all that I won’t be number one in my class.”
She dips her head and finishes off her water. She never talks about herself like this.
“First of all, I feel like you’ve left out some major details on what exactly happened in Manhattan this summer,” I say. “Was there a boy involved?”
“What happens in Manhattan stays in Manhattan, Cyrus,” she says, spinning her head around as the Jager guy walks away. “But what were you saying?”
“I was going to say that you don’t have to be an overachiever at Columbia,” I say. “You could just be an… achiever.”
“Oh my god, Cyrus.” She’s up and out of her seat, waving the Jager guy back to us. “That is definitely the lamest thing you’ve ever said.”
“I know. But I’m serious. You can do this. You’re the one person in the world I have no doubt about. And you should have fun. It’s nice to see you letting go this weekend. With your mother three thousand miles away.”
“Do not bring her into it,” Mindy says.
The sun isn’t as bright anymore and I wonder how long we’ve been here. At a gay bar. My head has stopped spinning.
“I’m sure she doesn’t care if you’re not top of your class at Columbia,” I say. “She just wants you to be happy.”
“You have met my mom, right?” Another table grabs the Jager dude, the patio super crowded all of a sudden. “Happy is about seventeenth on the list of things she wants for me. Bringing home a nice Korean boy from a family she approves of is number one. But being the best at school—no matter what level of school—is a strong number two.”
“Well, so what?” I say. “She’s just your mother. If you disappoint her, she’ll still love you. I’m sure my dad isn’t happy I came out to school so far away but he’s letting us use his credit card all weekend, so he can’t be that upset.”
Mindy dips her head.
“You need to call him.”
“What?”
“You need to call him,” Mindy says.
“I did,” I say. “This morning.”
We changed Jeff’s flight to tomorrow morning, same as Mindy’s. It’s too soon, way too soon.
“No, I meant when you’re out here. You need to call him. Like a lot.”
“I will.”
“No. Now I’m being serious, Cyrus.” She grabs my hand on the stained black laminate. “Your dad pulled me aside when we were waiting for Jeff and he asked me to watch out for you this weekend. He’s worried about you, Cyrus. So far from home.”
I know he’s worried. And I probably shouldn’t have been so mad at him for not coming out here this weekend. If he were here, then Jeff wouldn’t be here. So maybe Mindy’s right.
“Okay, enough of this depressing talk,” Mindy says. “We’re in the middle of a gay bar in WeHo and I’m getting another shot.”
She leaps over to Jager guy like a long-jumping Olympian as Jeff emerges from the bar. Brad and Oliver come crashing in behind. Laughing.
“What do you think of Gym Bar?” Oliver with the pink hair says, taking a seat.
“It’s cool,” I say. Jeff grabs Mindy’s seat, next to me.
“This is one of the more casual bars on the strip,” Oliver says. “You won’t find many drag queens or leather freaks here, not even on a Saturday. But we can head to The Abbey later if that’s your scene.”
“Oh,” Jeff says. “I think we have to leave soon.”
“You are not leaving,” Brad says. “Where do you have to go that’s better than this?”
“We have a concert,” I say.
“Oh my god,” Brad says. “Baby gays are so precious.”
I’m not sure what he means but it wouldn’t be fair to Cody to back out at the last instant unless—I guess I could invite him here. He said he’d been to WeHo on College Night once or twice but it wasn’t his scene.
“All right, we need to know,” Oliver says. “You boys are boyfriends or just friends? And if not boyfriends then why not, which one of you is pretending to be straight?”
“Well this one here—Cyrus, right?” Brad says. “He’s been glued to his seat the whole time so my guess is probably gay, but a closet case? I can’t tell about—what’s your name again?”
“Jeff,” Jeff says.
“Right.” Brad looks him over, up and down his face to his chest. “I can’t get a read.”
“We’re friends,” Jeff says. Answering for me. “We were in a band back in Pennsylvania.”
“What kind of band?” Oliver says.
“Hardcore,” Jeff says, pointing to his Fucked Up T-shirt.
“Hardcore reggae?” Brad says, laughing to himself. He’s kind of a dick. Mindy returns to the table with several shots on a round metal tray.
“And you, my dear?” Brad says. “Lesbian, bi, or cis? Oh, never mind, you’re all kinds of awesome.”
“Oh, I know.”
“So how long are you guys in California?” Oliver says.
“We’re leaving tomorrow. Jeff and me,” Mindy says.
“Oh, fuck that,” Brad says. “Mondays is trivia night at Blazing Saddles. You can’t stay one more day?”
“I recognize those words as English but they do not make sense together,” Mindy says.
Oliver laughs but Brad sees someone he knows and steps away from the table. I think we need to meet Cody soon.
“Are you two boyfriends?” Jeff says. He just says it.
“Noooooooo,” Oliver says, shaking his head dramatically. “We’re just friends.”
He scratches at his face, the stubble on his cheeks.
“We dated for a bit but it didn’t take.”
The music is louder now, blasting over speakers at the edges of the bar, the crowd getting bigger the longer we’ve been here.
“We probably need to leave,” I say, checking my watch.
“Wow,” Oliver says. “You can’t stay for one more round?”
He reaches for the last shot—I’m not sure how we got down to one shot but Mindy is smiling and Jeff seems wasted and I don’t know why I stopped drinking.
“You want it?” Oliver asks me, reaching out for my hand but I pull back on instinct.
“Sorry,” he says, a little cross-eyed, and I signal to Jeff and Mindy we need to leave but they’re both too drunk to notice. Oliver gets up when Brad calls for him.
“Let’s go,” I say, louder this time. “I think Oliver was hitting on me.”
Mindy and Jeff laugh together.
“Dude, everyone in here is hitting on everyone else,” Mindy says. “Well—except me.”
“I think you’re the wrong gender,” Jeff says.
“You ‘think’?”
Jeff laughs. I’m not sure what’s happening.
“What about the concert?” I say.
“Ugh, I don’t feel like going to a concert right now,” Mindy says, staring up at the sky from the patio. She mentions it’s spinning.
“What do you guys want to do?” I say. Maybe Jeff wants to stay.
“What time is it?” Mindy says.
My watch says five but that doesn’t seem right.
“Five?” Mindy says. “How the fuck is it not later than that? Is this jet lag?”
“It’s five shots is what it is,” I say.
“All right, Dad,” Mindy says. Jeff laughs again. The Lady Gaga-Madonna-Beyoncé mix is blaring over the speakers and the chiseled muscled hunks have moved outside, next to me.
“Do you really want to go?” Jeff says.
This bar is 100% not my scene, even if I’m 100% gay, but if Jeff doesn’t want to leave, I’m okay with staying. I just don’t know what to tell Cody.
“Whatever you guys want,” I say. “I’m okay with staying.”
It’s my last day with Jeff. I have all year with Cody.
“Is there a ladies’ room in a gay bar?” Mindy asks.
She lifts her hand to her mouth and then we’re running, carrying Mindy through the throng of chiseled muscle guys down the hall to find the ladies’ room. Just in time.
She pukes for a while. Jeff and I wait, not speaking because it’s too loud to hear anything and I can’t actually think. Mindy is laughing when she emerges.
“If only my mom could see me now,” she says.
“Are you okay?” Jeff asks. He reaches behind me and touches my back.
“She’ll be fine,” I say. “She’s Mindy. She’s an… achiever.”
She clings to me, her arms wrapping around my waist. Smiling.
“You want to stay here?” I ask Jeff.
“We can go,” he says, his hand still on my back.
“So let’s go,” Mindy says, pushing me into Jeff and releasing.
I keep holding on.