Geography Club (2 page)

16
, he wrote back. Of course, I had no way of knowing that anything he said was true—the good or bad part of the Internet, depending on what you looked like. On the other hand, if it was some creepy old guy looking to bust a nut, it would become clear pretty quickly, and I could just check myself out.

I asked him if he really lived in my town.

Sure
, he wrote.

Where u go to school?
I asked. This was a test. There are three high schools in the area—it isn’t
that
small a town—but if he really lived nearby, he’d know the schools.

The screen was empty for a second, like GayTeen was thinking. Then a word appeared.
Goodkind.

I hadn’t expected this. This was
my
high school! I could accept that there were other gay people in my town, even other high school students. But I definitely could
not
accept that they went to my high school! Once again, I knew it made sense. But I’d just felt so lonely for so long, it had never occurred to me that I might not have to feel that way.

Was it someone I knew?

What year are u?
I asked.

Sophomore
, he wrote back.
U?

Same
, I wrote. Well, that clinched it. I knew everyone in my class, at least by name. Whoever this was, I had to know him.

We chatted for a few more minutes, mostly about teachers and cafeteria food. There was no denying that he was a student and he went to my school. He knew too much not to.

Finally, my curiosity got the best of me.
Who are u?
I wrote.
What’s your real name?
I had to know.

The screen stayed blank. GayTeen didn’t answer.

Are u still there?
I wrote.

I’m here,
GayTeen wrote.
Who are u? You tell me first.

Suddenly, I saw the problem. If I told GayTeen who I was, there was no guarantee he’d tell me who he was. And if he didn’t, he could tell people about me. If he told me who he was and I didn’t respond, I could do the same thing to him. We could promise to write our names at exactly the same time, but who’s to say we’d both do it?

No. We couldn’t reveal ourselves over the Internet. The stakes were far too high.

Two new words appeared on my screen.
Let’s meet
, they said.

I knew immediately that this was the logical solution. It was the only way to even out the risk. We’d see each other at the same time. He’d know about me, but I’d know about him too. If he talked about me, I could talk about him—mutually assured destruction.

The risk was lower, true, but there was still a risk. I’d never actually met a known gay person before. Did it really make sense for the first one to be someone from my class? After the lengths I’d gone to over the years to conceal my true identity, how could I even consider entrusting that information to someone I didn’t know? I’d never even told Min or Gunnar.

All this flashed through my mind, but even as it did, I was typing a response so fast my fingers were stumbling over the keys. It was only a single word:
Where
?

It was well past dark when I arrived at the play field where we’d agreed to meet. I locked my bike and scanned the area, but I didn’t see anyone. There weren’t any cars in the parking lot either. The air was cool and wet, and I was shivering even under a heavy jacket, but it wasn’t just from the cold.

Then I saw him. There’s a picnic gazebo on the far side of the field, which borders a dense swampy area. Under the gazebo, a dark figure sat hunched atop a picnic table. Even as I spotted him, he seemed to see me too. He slipped off the table, stepping forward, still in the shadows, but peering out into the darkness.

The moon was behind some soggy clouds, so I couldn’t see him clearly, and he couldn’t see me. In other words, I could still back out. I could unlock my bike, climb aboard, and pedal away, and he’d never know who I was. But I knew I wasn’t going to. I’d already come too far.

I started across the field. It had been raining a lot lately, and the grass had flooded. The mud sucked at my tennis shoes, cold water seeping into my socks.

Who was it under that picnic gazebo? I could tell from his slightly slackened posture that it really was a high school student—but who? What if it was Gunnar? No, it was probably Brian Bund. What would I do then? I couldn’t very well just turn my back on him and leave.

I passed a children’s play area to one side of the field—two sets of rusted metal monkey bars, one in the shape of a covered wagon, the other in the shape of a tepee, in the middle of a patch of flooded sand.

The figure in the gazebo hadn’t made any movement toward me, but he hadn’t backed away either. He just stood there watching me. The only thing more fitting would have been if he’d been smoking a cigarette and wearing a dark overcoat.

This was stupid. I’d talked to dozens of gay teenagers on the Internet. I’d told them I was gay. What was the difference? But even as I thought
this
, I knew the difference, and it was big. This was real.

I was less than thirty feet from the gazebo now. The methane stench from the swamp was foul, and I couldn’t imagine anyone ever actually having a picnic here. A few more feet, and we’d be able to see each other clearly. I was risking everything, but for what I wasn’t sure. All I knew was that I’d been undercover for far too long. It was time to finally make contact.

Taking a deep breath, I sloshed the rest of the way across the grass, stepped into the gazebo, and found myself staring into the dark, bristled face of Kevin Land.

I’d made a mistake. I must have come to the wrong picnic gazebo in the wrong park, probably even on the wrong night.

“Kevin?” I said. “What are you doing here?”

Kevin, meanwhile, looked just as surprised to see me. “Russel?” he said, then quickly added, “Nothing! What are
you
doing here?” There was no mistaking it—Kevin was nervous.

“I was out for a ride on my bike,” I said, glancing around. Now
I
was nervous. I knew I didn’t really have the wrong gazebo or the wrong time. GayTeen just hadn’t shown up yet. But what if he showed up now? If he went to Goodkind High School and he was in my class, he’d know Kevin Land. He might say something to him about me.

“Yeah?” Kevin said, way too loud. “Well, I was just out for a walk!” Without another word, he started walking away then and there.

That’s when I finally realized that—duh!—Kevin was the one I’d come here to see. It had just never occurred to me that Kevin Land—
Kevin Land!
—could be gay, not even after finding him in the exact spot where I’d arranged to meet a gay teenager from my school.

“GayTeen,” I said to Kevin. It wasn’t a question.

He stopped in his tracks, his back to me. But he didn’t say anything. He looked like he wasn’t even breathing.

Finally, he whirled on me, anger in his eyes. “What the hell does that mean? Are you calling me a fag or what?”

If this had been the Kevin Land I knew from the school, the swaggering, confident guy in the locker room after gym class, I might have fallen for this. But it wasn’t. This was an entirely different Kevin Land, one with hunched shoulders and a catch in his voice. And unlike the other Kevin Land, this one had not only anger in his eyes, but also fear.

“Kevin,” I said. “Knock it off. I know you’re GayTeen.”

Kevin’s eyes went wider still, and it seemed like I could read his thoughts. Should I deny it? he was thinking. And, should I try to intimidate him?

“Relax,” I said, oddly serene. “I’m not going to tell anyone.” I’d been afraid of how risky it was, meeting like this, but now I saw that I held the power here. It was true—Kevin could start a rumor about me, tell everyone at school that I was gay. But I could start a rumor about him too, and let’s face it, I was just Russel Middlebrook. He, on the other hand, was Kevin Land, Baseball Jock Incorporated. He had a hell of a lot more to lose.

Finally, Kevin sighed, as if in defeat. His whole body seemed to crumple. He drifted closer to me again but wouldn’t look me in the eye.

“So Kevin Land is gay,” I said. I tried, but I couldn’t wipe the smirk off my face. After years of teasing by Kevin and guys just like him, it was fun to have the upper hand for a change.

“Shhh!” Kevin said, and it echoed across the grass. “Besides, I don’t know what I am.”

“You look at pictures of naked guys on the Internet?”

He hesitated. “Sometimes.”

“You’re gay. What’s the big deal?” I was enjoying this way too much, but I still couldn’t stop myself.

“The big deal,” Kevin said, “is that nobody at Goodkind knows about me! And they
can’t
know! If they knew I screwed around with guys—!”

“You’ve had sex with guys?” I hadn’t expected this. Gay, yes—sexually active, no.

“Maybe,” Kevin said. He glanced over, met my gaze at last, but now I looked away. The next logical question was for him to ask me if I’d had sex with a guy, which I hadn’t, but I sure as hell didn’t want to tell him that, so I was suddenly desperate to change the subject.

“Who would ever have a picnic here?” I said, now talking too loudly myself. “I mean, it stinks! Don’t you think that swamp sure stinks?”

Kevin saw right through me. “Never had sex, huh?” Suddenly, he was the old Kevin Land again, the one with the smirk and the upper hand.

“Well,” I said, “not with a guy.” Notice the careful wording on this. I wasn’t actually saying I’d had sex with a girl, because I hadn’t. But it was phrased in such a way to make Kevin think that I had. Clever, huh?

“It doesn’t matter,” Kevin said, his smirk fading as quickly as it had appeared. I had to give him credit. He could have made me squirm like I had him, but he hadn’t.

“So now we know about each other,” I said. “Now what?” I had a few ideas, but I wasn’t going to be the one to suggest them.

“I don’t know,” Kevin said. “I guess we could talk.”

“Okay. Let’s talk.”

And what do you know? That’s exactly what we did.

The next day at school, Kevin Land didn’t ignore me. If I was reading this, that’s what I would think would’ve happened, but it’s not what did happen. Kevin acknowledged me in the hall, talked to me in gym class. He wasn’t super-chummy, but if he had been all friendly, people would have noticed, and that was something neither of us wanted. Pacing around that cold, stinky gazebo the night before, Kevin and I had talked for over an hour. He’d told me how out of place he felt around his jock friends, and that all his macho posturing in the locker room was really just an act to make sure no one ever questioned his sexuality or whatever. At first, this had sounded a little like Santa Claus saying he was allergic to reindeer, but Kevin had seemed sincere, so I gave him the benefit of the doubt. I had told Kevin that I felt out of place too, but I’d left out the part about feeling lonely, because I thought it sounded a little too Oprah. We’d agreed to get together again soon to talk some more. After our first day back at school, I now thought we might actually do it.

For the first time in my life, I was friends with (a) one of the most popular kids in school, and (b) an actual gay person. Incredibly, they were the same person. This had to be one of those ironic plot twists my English teacher was always blathering on about.

That night after school, I met my friend Gunnar by the bike rack. Since we lived on the same block, we usually rode home together, talking all the way. But that day, my head was spinning. I was thinking about Kevin, about all we’d talked about the night before, and maybe a little bit about what he looked like naked in the locker room.

Of course, I couldn’t mention any of this to Gunnar. Besides, he had other things on his mind.

“I think Mr. Kluger is purposely making the fluorescent lights in his psychology classroom flicker in order to keep us drowsy,” Gunnar said.

Before long, we reached the base of a long, low hill that had to be climbed to get home. Coming to school in the mornings, I loved this hill, because I was going downhill and because I was usually running late. But in the afternoons, man, did I hate this hill.

“I wish I had a girlfriend,” Gunnar said out of the blue, just as we’d started pedaling for the top. This didn’t surprise me. Gunnar had wanted a girlfriend for as long as I’d known him. “A girlfriend or a dog,” he added.

“A dog?” I said, confused. “What does a dog have to do with a girlfriend?” Gunnar’s brain was like a giant ball of string; in the end, everything tied together, but it was impossible to see exactly how. This was actually one of things I liked most about him.

Gunnar sighed. “Every popular guy I’ve ever known has had a girlfriend or a dog. Sometimes both. But the best I can hope for is a girlfriend who
is
a dog.”

“You don’t want a dog,” I said. “They spend half their time licking their butts, and they still stink.”

“Fine, forget the dog. But I
do
want a girlfriend!” Gunnar was out of breath, and only partly from the uphill ride.

“Because it means you’re not a loser.”

“Exactly! And don’t deny it, because you know it’s true.”

“Kinda crass,” I said. “What if the girl finds out you’re only dating her to be more popular?”

“Are you kidding? Girls already know it. It’s even worse for them. After all, they don’t have the dog to fall back on.”

Even when I was almost positive Gunnar was making a joke, I couldn’t be certain he was. But I knew he wasn’t joking about the added status he thought a girlfriend would give him. And to be absolutely frank, Gunnar was right about the whole girlfriend/status connection. He was also right that status was something he could have used a little more of. Gunnar was no Brian Bund, but he was definitely an acquired taste.

“So,” Gunnar said as we reached the crest of the hill. “Will you help?”

“Help what?” I said. Now we were both gasping for air.

“Help me get a girlfriend!”

“Why me?”

“I don’t know. You seem more relaxed around girls.” This was true. It was the naked Kevin Lands of the world who tied my stomach into knots. Why the whole world hadn’t long since concluded I was gay, I honestly didn’t know.

“What about Min?” I said.

“What about her?”

“I mean as a girlfriend.”

“Too cerebral.” I didn’t point out the obvious—that anyone who used words like “cerebral” sounded to me like a perfect match for Min.

We started down the hill. I’d always loved the coast down the opposite side of an uphill climb, with the wind blowing in my face.

“So you’ll help me?” Gunnar called.

“Help you what?”

“Get a girlfriend!”

“Sure,” I said. “Whatever I can do.” This was an easy promise to make. Gunnar had been trying to get a girlfriend forever, and he’d never even come close.

I was dying to tell someone about Kevin Land. This makes me sound like a jerk, I know, but what can I say? The heart wants what it wants, and my heart wanted to dish dirt on Kevin Land. I had no desire to spread it all over school. I just wanted to tell one single person—to say the news out loud, so I’d know I wasn’t imagining things. The problem was, in order to tell anyone about Kevin, I first had to tell them about me. That meant it had to be someone I could trust. Gunnar was out—I had no idea how he’d react to the information. That left Min. I know I said before how I’d decided to never tell her about myself, but meeting Kevin Land had somehow changed my mind.

That Saturday afternoon, Min and I were over at her house playing a game of Wiz War in her bedroom. We were keeping score on the folded front page of the
Goodkind Gazette
, the school newspaper; I was surprised that Min even had a copy, since no one ever read the
Goodkind Gazette
. I was winning the game but was taking nothing for granted. Wiz War is the kind of game where you think the outcome is absolutely inevitable—and then the other player draws a single card that changes everything.

“So,” I said, pretending to stare at my cards, but really thinking about what I was going to tell her. “How do you feel about malicious gossip?”

“Hmm?” Min said, barely listening, glaring at the game board like she could change it through the sheer force of her will.

“Gossip,” I said. “I learned something interesting about someone at our school.”

She placed down a card. “I hit you with a fireball.”

I stared at the pieces on the board. “You can’t cast a fireball. There’s no line of sight.”

A smile slid across her face, and she laid down a second card. “Vision-stone,” she said. “I can see through walls.”

I countered her fireball with a card of my own, but her vision-stone card was reusable, which was not a good development for me.

“So,” Min said. “What’s this gossip?” Now that the tide was turning in her favor, her mood had brightened considerably. Min didn’t like to lose. Fortunately for her, she rarely did.

“Oh,” I said. “That.” I stared at my cards for real now, then played a spell of my own—a stun card—which Min immediately countered.

“Come on,” she said. “Spill the beans.”

“It’s about Kevin Land.”

“What about him?” She laid down a waterbolt card, which I also countered.

“What would you say if I told you Kevin Land was gay?”

Min arched an eyebrow. “I’d say that is interesting. How do you know?”

The moment of truth. Rather than meet her gaze, I concentrated on the game board, moving my wizard as far away from hers as I could.

“I ran into him in a gay chat room,” I said softly. “We didn’t know who the other was until we agreed to meet. I don’t know who was more surprised, him or me.”

Min stared at me, absolutely frozen. Even her pupils didn’t move.

I looked down at the board again. “I know what you’re thinking,” I said, fumbling with the points on the triangular die. “You’re thinking, What was I doing in a gay chat room?”

Min didn’t say anything, but she wasn’t stupid. She knew exactly what I’d just told her.

I put down a thought-steal card—one of the few attack cards that didn’t require line of sight. “Counter that,” I said.

Min began to laugh.

“What?” I said. “What’s so funny?”

But she just laughed even louder. Before long, she looked like she was going to pop a blood vessel in her neck.

“Min,” I said. “It’s not that funny.” This wasn’t the reaction I’d expected at all. To tell the truth, she was kind of pissing me off.

“It’s not you,” Min said, winding down, wiping away a tear. “I’m not laughing at you.”

“Then what?”

“You know Terese Buckman?”

“The soccer player?” I said. She went to our school, but I barely knew her.

Min nodded. “What would you say if I told you she was a lesbian?”

“Really? Wow.” I can’t say I was wildly surprised. She was kind of butch. Still, that meant there were three gay students at my high school—exactly two more than I would’ve guessed.

Min took a deep breath, held it, then let it go. “And what would you say if I told you she was my girlfriend?”

“I know she’s your girlfriend. Weren’t you in the Girl Scouts together?”

“No,” Min said, suddenly dead serious. “I mean my
girlfriend
.”

This time, it was me who froze.

Now Min wouldn’t look me in the eye. Instead, she played a series of cards, first countering my last attack, then knocking down walls and opening doors, until there was only a single wall between me and her. Then she laid down one final card, the sudden death spell. Since she’d already forced me to use up my last counteraction card, she had me. She won. I was dead.