Is He Or Isn't He? (16 page)

“I guess you're right.”

“You like him, don't you?”

“What?”

“You heard me,” Felix yelled over the loud music. “You like him.”

“Sure,” Anthony answered cautiously, not knowing where Felix was going with his line of questioning. “He's a great guy.”

Felix shook his head. “Don't try to con me, DeMarco. You
like
him. A lot.” Felix wrapped his arms around Anthony's waist and danced against him. “But is he or isn't he? That's what you want to know. I don't have a clue. And neither do you. But you know I am. So why not get closer to me?”

And with that Felix threw his arms around Anthony in a hug, giving him another wet, sloppy kiss.

Okay, this was
not
a birthday kiss. This was something more. Anthony knew he should be flattered, but this was Felix. Felix! His sworn enemy. If Anthony didn't know any better, he would think Felix was trying to make him his date for the evening.

Suddenly, he remembered what Paige had told him at his back-to-school party. About Felix maybe liking him. Could she have been right? Did Felix have feelings for him? But he didn't have feelings for Felix!

He'd have to be careful about what he did or said next. He
didn't want to piss Felix off. That could be social suicide.

And then, he saw him. Coming through the front doors.

Ian.

At first Anthony became excited. All the old feelings he'd once had for Ian came back in a rush. All he wanted to do was break free of Felix and run to Ian's side. He was powerless over the excitement that was being stirred up inside him.

He was wearing a three-quarter black leather jacket over a BU sweatshirt and distressed jeans with motorcycle boots. His hair was a little longer, kind of unwashed, and he hadn't shaved in days. But the grunge look worked for him. It made him look rugged. More masculine. Less like a high school boy.

Anthony loved it.

He was just about to step away from Felix when he saw Ian hold out his hand to a guy standing beside him.

A guy who he pulled close and kissed.

Anthony felt like he'd been punched in the stomach. Suddenly he couldn't breathe.

All he could do was watch the scene that was unfolding.

The other guy laughed and then grabbed Ian by the chin, pulling him close for another kiss. He was a blond with glasses and was also wearing a BU sweatshirt, jeans and motorcycle boots.

They were definitely a couple. Aside from the kissing, it was obvious from the way they were dressed. Anthony didn't know why, but some gay couples loved dressing like identical twins.

Anthony took a deep breath. Okay, Ian had moved on. There was no going back. But that didn't mean they couldn't be friends, right?

Anthony broke away from Felix and moved himself to the
side so he'd be directly in Ian's line of vision as he walked farther into the club.

As he drew closer, Anthony caught his eye and smiled.

But Ian didn't smile back.

He didn't nod or wave.

Instead, he turned the other way, grabbing his boyfriend's arm, pretending he hadn't seen Anthony.

Anthony felt like a knife had been stabbed into his heart. The pain was searing. Why did Ian have to go and do that? Why couldn't he come over, say hello and ask him how he was doing? Why treat him like the Invisible Man?

Anthony's Italian temper started bubbling and he was tempted to make a scene. A big one. Who did Ian think he was?
He
was the cheater!
He
was the one who had done Anthony wrong. From the way he was acting, you'd think
Anthony
had betrayed
him
!

No, he wasn't going to make a scene. Ian would love a scene. Then he'd get to play the injured party with his new boyfriend and trash Anthony. If he hadn't already. Anthony could hear him now, “
He never got over me. You know how immature high school boys can be. You go out on a few dates with them and they think it's forever.”

“What's the matter, Anthony?” Felix asked, coming up to his side, watching as Ian disappeared into the back of the club. “Blast from the past? I guess I should have told you Ian was coming with his new boyfriend. It must have slipped my mind.”

Anthony turned to face Felix. He wasn't buying the innocent expression on his face. He knew Felix was hoping for some drama. “Did it?”

“Are you going to go over to them? I think you should,” he urged. “Just to clear the air.”

You'd like that, wouldn't you?
Anthony thought, noticing the hungry gleam in Felix's eye.
Some angry words. A tossed drink. Maybe even a slap and some rolling around on the floor. Plenty of dirt for next week's column.

Suddenly Anthony was tired. All he wanted to do was go home and crawl into bed, pulling the sheets up over his head, shutting out the entire world. Who said being a gay teenager was easy? “You know what, Felix? I'm going to cut out.”

“So soon? But you just got here! We haven't even cut the birthday cake.”

“Suddenly I don't feel so well.”
And if I stick around for your cake cutting, I might be tempted to shove your smug face right into it.

“Heartsick?”

“Something like that.”

“He's not worth it. Listen, why don't you give Ian a dose of his own medicine? There are lots of good-looking guys here. Ask one of them to dance. Show Ian that you're over him.”

Anthony had never been into playing games. It took too much energy to hold a grudge and plot ways to get even. “I'm just going to go home.”

“A bunch of us are going to go to the Clubhouse later. Why don't you come?”

The Clubhouse was a gay dance club on West 17th Street where there was a dance party every Saturday night. Anthony had never been, although he'd wondered about it for years.

“Would we be able to get in?” he asked.

“Do you have a fake ID?”

“Yes. Don't you remember when we all went to that dance club last March in the East Village to see that British band? You had to be twenty-one to get in.”

“Oh yeah! That photo of you is soooo dorky!” Felix laughed.

“Hey, it got me into the club, didn't it?”

“Then you should be fine tonight. But if anyone at the door gives you a problem, just mention my name. We're going to get there around eleven.”

“I'll see how I'm feeling.”

“Come! If you're still feeling down, I guarantee you'll feel much better.”

“I'll bet.” Anthony knew that a lot of illegal drugs were easily available at the Clubhouse.

Suddenly, Anthony was afraid for his friend. Until tonight, it never occurred to him that Felix might be grappling with the same problems that he was. Or that Felix might go down a different path than him to deal with those problems. Could that be a reason why Felix was so nasty? Could his behavior be a defense mechanism? A way of coping with being gay? He gave Felix a quick hug. “Enjoy the rest of your party. Have a good time tonight, but be careful, okay?”

“Don't worry. I'm a big boy. I know how to take care of myself.”

Did he?
Anthony wondered.

 

Outside the club, it had stopped raining, but a cold wind was blowing. Anthony pulled up the collar of his peacoat as he
walked down 8th Avenue. Everywhere he turned, there were couples—gay and straight—walking arm in arm or friends out for fun on a Saturday night, laughing and talking.

And here I am, all alone
.
Feeling like an outsider. What have I done wrong?

Anthony sighed. Maybe the best thing for him to do was to grab something to eat and go home. He'd hide out in his room. Paolo shouldn't have a problem with that. He'd already been gone for a couple of hours.

Walking down the next block, he could see the bright lights of a supermarket. He'd buy some veggies and hummus and a container of Ben & Jerry's and then head home.

Inside the supermarket, Anthony grabbed a basket and started loading it up. He grabbed a bag of baby carrots, a package of sliced celery, some pita bread and a container of hummus. The yellow apples looked good, so he threw one into his basket, as well as a box of raspberries. That should tide him over. Now for the ice cream.

As he walked down the aisles, Anthony noticed that there were some gay couples who were grocery shopping for the upcoming week. And they didn't look like they lived at the gym twenty-four/seven. Instead, they were regular-looking guys, debating which laundry detergent made their clothes smell fresher or which brand of pasta tasted better.

Watching these couples, Anthony suddenly felt hopeful. Here was proof that you didn't have to be a part of the gay party scene in order to be happy. You could be a regular person who washed clothes, cooked pasta, clipped coupons, did weekly grocery shopping and happened to be gay.

As he was making his way down the frozen food aisle, he
heard someone call out his name. The voice was familiar but he couldn't place it. When he turned around, he saw Roger headed his way, along with his latest glamazon.

“Hey, Anthony! I thought that was you. What are you doing down here? Don't you live on the Upper East Side?”

“I was heading home from a party and got the urge for munchies. How about you?”

Roger jerked a finger at his sidekick. “Amber and I have been studying and we decided to take a break. We're picking up some frozen pizzas.”

Amber turned around a box of microwave pizza with her French-manicured fingers, squinting at the directions. “Do we have to defrost this first?” she asked, oblivious to the
READY IN FIVE MINUTES
! banner on the front of the box. “Because I don't want to wait. I'm really hungry.”

Anthony wanted to roll his eyes. Great. Another airhead. What did Roger see in them?

Amber, who was wearing a low-cut pink sweater, leaned over the frozen food case for another pizza and Anthony got his answer. Duh. Stupid question. He could see what Roger saw in Amber.

“You want to have some pizza with us?” Roger asked as Amber joined his side, snuggling up next to him.

And watch the two of you make kissy-face at each other? I don't think so. I already got my daily dose of kissy-face at Felix's party.

“Thanks for the invite, but I'm kind of beat. I'm going to go home, eat my snacks and then go to bed.”

Roger shrugged. “Okay. Guess I'll see ya around the bakery.”

“Yeah, see ya.”

“Bye,” Amber said, waving her fabulous fingers.

Anthony watched as Roger and Amber headed for the cash registers at the front of the store, her arm wrapped around his waist.

I am not going to get depressed. I am not going to get depressed. I am NOT going to get depressed. So what if Roger's always got a new girlfriend? He's a straight high school boy. They're allowed.

Anthony turned back to the ice cream case and threw in a container of Ben & Jerry's Chocolate Fudge Brownie. And Mint Chocolate Cookie. And Vanilla Caramel Fudge.

It was official.

He was depressed.

Anthony took a bite of his apple as he headed to the front of the supermarket. The crunchy sweetness of the apple didn't make him feel instantly better, but it helped.

As he started unloading his basket for the cashier, Anthony checked the time on his watch, wondering what was going on out in the Hamptons. Hopefully, Paige was having a better Saturday night than he was.

I
t was showtime in the Hamptons.

The grandfather clock in the living room had just chimed twelve and everyone was asleep. Everyone, that is, except for Paige, who was in her bathroom, staring at herself in a mirror.

You can do this
, she told herself.
You can do this.

What was she so nervous about? All she was going to do was walk into Max's bedroom and fall into his bed.

It's not like they were going to
do
anything.

Of course, the whole purpose of this test was to see if Max
did
want to do
something
…

But they wouldn't.

This was nothing more than an experiment. An experiment in Biology 101.

She just had to remember Anthony's advice. Act dazed and confused. Initiate accidental body contact. Stay in his
bed as long as possible.

Paige took another look at herself in the mirror. She was wearing a lace-trimmed peach nightie that showed just a tad of cleavage (thank you, Victoria's Secret!), she'd run her fingers through her hair so it looked like a wild, messy mane (for once she was following Anthony's advice) and at the insistence of Colleen and the twins, she was wearing a touch of makeup. Just some blush on her cheeks and a bit of mascara to give herself an enhanced “natural” look. She had to admit, even though she felt a little uncomfortable with her appearance, she did look pretty good. What straight guy would be able to resist this?

She was inspecting her image one last time when there was a soft knock on the bathroom door.

“Who is it?”

“Colleen.”

Paige opened the door and let her into the bathroom. “What are you still doing up? I thought you were asleep.”

“I figured you might need some support. Not getting cold feet, are you?”

“Of course not!”

“Then why are you hiding in here?”

“I'm not hiding!”

“Yes, you are. This is like the time in eighth grade when we went to Bianca and Rachel's birthday party and you heard that Michael Paxton was planning to kiss you during Spin the Bottle.”

“Wouldn't you have done the same thing? Michael was the hottest guy in our class!”

“You tried to hide in the bathroom during the entire
game. Until I pulled you out. And wasn't it worth it?”

“Michael did know how to kiss,” Paige said.

“You've been in here for at least a half hour. I've been timing you. If you can't go through with it, I'll do it.”

“I can go through with it.”

“Afraid that I'll squash him?” Colleen joked.

“Ha ha. Very funny. I'm going to do this. I
want
to do this. Besides, if I don't, Anthony will never let me live it down.”

“Then what are you so nervous about? Come on, Paige. Fess up.”

Paige chewed on her lower lip. “Do you really think he's going to buy my story?”

“If he's straight, what does it matter? He'll be flattered that you fell into his bed. And he'll get the message that you're interested in him!”

“Unless I'm not his type.”

“If he's straight, any girl is his type. Let's go over your story again, alright? You woke up in the middle of the night. You were thirsty. You went to get a drink of water and on your way back to your room, you went the wrong way. Easy enough mistake to make because the hallway was dark, you were half asleep and you couldn't see where you were going.”

“He's really going to believe this?”

Colleen pushed Paige out of the bathroom. “There only one way to find out.”

Colleen headed back to bed while Paige, her heart pounding, took a deep breath, walked down the hall and slowly opened the door to Max's bedroom. It was pitch black inside the room but she could see him lying in bed, his back toward her, covered from head to toe in a down comforter.

When Paige closed the door behind her, she could barely see. She listened for the sound of Max's breathing and as she did, she realized something.

This is actually going to be the first time that I'm alone in the same bed with a guy!

Putting her hands in front of her like a blind woman, she shuffled toward the bed, still listening for Max's breathing, hoping it would guide her.

But she must have miscalculated her steps because as she got closer to the bed, she rammed her left foot into the nightstand next to it, stubbing her pinky toe. A jolt of pain shot through her body.

“Ow!”

The words were out of Paige's mouth before she could stop them. She couldn't help it. It hurt!

She bent over to massage her sore toe, pressing one hand on the bed's mattress for support.

As she did so, Max bolted out of bed in surprise.

Before Paige could pull away from the bed, his head slammed into her face, sending her falling to the floor.

The pain was nothing compared to what she'd experienced seconds earlier. It was ten times worse!

“EEEOUCHHHHHHH!!!” she screamed, making her earlier “ow” sound like a whisper.

“Paige? Is that you?” Max asked, his voice groggy with sleep. “What happened? What's going on?”

Nothing is going on
, Paige thought, grasping her nose.
Absolutely nothing. Except I'm in excruciating pain!

After scrambling out of bed and turning on a light, Max quickly took control of the situation. He carried Paige back to
his bed, arranging the pillows and blankets around her while she explained how she wound up in his room. Thankfully, he didn't question her story. Then he raced down to the kitchen and came back with a small plastic bag of ice, pressing it gently against her nose, asking her if she was in pain and if she wanted him to take her to the nearest emergency room.

While Max had been running around, Paige couldn't help but notice that he was only wearing a pair of Joe Boxer shorts. They were black with yellow smiley faces on them.

Max had a body to die for!

“Paige, I'm really sorry about your nose.”

For the last half hour, Max had been apologizing nonstop.

Paige removed the icebag she was holding over her nose, tearing her eyes away from the sculpted perfection of Max's chest. Did it feel as hard as it looked? She wished she could touch it. Why hadn't she thought to rest her head against it when he'd carried her to bed? Oh, that's right. She'd been preoccupied. With pain. “That's okay, Max. It wasn't your fault. Really.”

It was my fault for thinking Anthony's stupid plan would work! The next time she saw him, he was a dead man!

So much for glamour. So much for testing Max's straightness. She looked like Marcia Brady from the infamous “Oh, My Nose!” episode of “The Brady Bunch.” It was like she had a big fat potato smack in the middle of her face. And her “natural” look was all smeary from the ice bag she'd been pressing against her face.

“You're so gorgeous, I'd feel awful if I did anything to mess up your looks.”

Had Paige heard Max correctly? He thought she was gor,
geous? No, he did
not
just say that. But she had to know!

“You think I'm gorgeous?” she asked, hating herself for wanting to hear the compliment again.

“All the guys at school think so.”

Hmmm. He'd avoided a direct answer to the question. Why? Not interested or did he not want to mislead her if he was gay? Then again, Max was engaging in conversation with guys who found her gorgeous. That might mean something. Obviously, they were straight. Which means they were talking about other girls as well. Unless Max was pretending to be straight while talking with these guys? Just going with the flow?

“You're lying,” Paige said. “They do not.”

But if they did, where were they?!

“Why would I say something that wasn't true?”

I don't know. Maybe to flatter me? To get me to like you? But you don't have to do that because I already do!

Max placed both his hands at the sides of Paige's face, gently lifting her head up toward the light next to the bed. “It doesn't look like it's broken, but you really should make sure.”

Paige smothered a tiny sigh. Max's hands were so gentle. It was like he was afraid of bruising her. “I will. Once we're back in Manhattan.” Paige slid out of the bed. “It's getting late. I better get back to my room. You're probably exhausted.”

Max slid back under the sheets. “I'll see you in the morning. Hopefully by then the swelling will have gone down and you'll be your usual gorgeous self.”

He'd used the word gorgeous again!

“Oh, and Paige?”

She paused in the bedroom doorway and turned around, her heart fluttering. Part of her was hoping he would ask her
to stay. To slip under the sheets and snuggle up against him. Outside she could hear the wind howling. She was sure there was no place in the world cozier than being next to Max.

“Yes?” she asked hopefully.

Max reached out to turn off the light next to his bed. “Maybe you should leave a pitcher of water next to your bed from now on. That way the next time you're thirsty, you won't have to get out of bed.” He clicked off the light. “Good night.”

“Good night,” Paige said, thankful for the darkness so Max couldn't see the way her cheeks had turned burning red.

 

“Why didn't you return any of my calls last night?” Anthony asked. “I must have called at least five times. And then you weren't in school today. I'm
dying
to find out what happened on Saturday night!”

“This is what happened,” Paige said, stepping out from behind the front door of her apartment on Monday afternoon.

Anthony gasped. “What happened to your nose?”

“
You
happened to my nose.”

“Huh?”

“This is all your fault!”

“My fault?
My
fault? How can that be? I was in New York City the entire weekend.”

“It was your bright idea that I walk into Max's bedroom after getting ‘lost' on my way back from the bathroom.”

Anthony cringed. “The plan backfired?”

“The plan backfired.”

“How?”

Paige pointed to her swollen nose. “What do you mean
how
? Isn't it obvious? His head slammed into my face.”

“Ouch!”

“It was more than ouch. More like double ouch!”

“Did you have to go to the hospital?”

“No. Luckily there was no bleeding and I could still breathe through it. I went to my doctor for an x-ray this morning. That's why I wasn't in school. He says it's just swollen.”

“Can I call you Marcia from now on?”

“Very funny.”

Anthony walked into the living room, tossing his book bag on the hardwood floor and plopping himself down on the couch. “Okay, so I guess we're back to square one.”

“
You're
back to square one. I'm throwing in the towel.”

Anthony jumped off the couch. “What?!”

“You heard me.”

Paige had done a lot of thinking over the past two nights. As much as she liked Max, she wasn't getting any sort of sense that he was interested in her romantically. Even with a swollen nose, the rest of her body had been on display in his bed and she hadn't caught him peeking at anything he shouldn't have. Yes, he was sweet and nice, but she wasn't feeling a romantic spark coming from him. Maybe there wasn't one there.

“But you can't give up!”

“Why not? We've been at this for what? A couple of weeks? And we haven't made any progress.”

“So it's going to take some more time. Isn't the end result worth it?”

“For one of us, maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“Don't you think by now that if Max were interested in either one of us, we'd know it? He would have done or said
something
to show us his interest.”

“Not necessarily. Maybe he's just shy.”

“Maybe.”

“Nothing at all happened this weekend to give you a clue whether he plays for your team or mine?”

“He did say something interesting,” Paige admitted.

“What?”

“I'm gorgeous.”

“He said that? He said, ‘Paige, I think you're gorgeous.'”

“His exact words were ‘You're so gorgeous, I'd feel awful if I did anything to mess up your looks.' This was after he'd slammed my nose with his head, so he had to say something. And then when I asked him if he thought I was gorgeous, he said all the guys at school think so.”

“I could have told you that.”

Paige's temper flared. “Then why haven't you? Maybe if I knew someone else was interested in me, I'd be spending less time obsessing over Max.”

“You don't like hearing stuff like that.”

“Excuse me?”

Anthony sighed. “Paige, you run away from compliments. You hate hearing nice things about yourself. As for the guys at school, the ones who think you're gorgeous?”

“Yes?”

“They think you're unapproachable.”

“Unapproachable? That's crazy! Why would they think that?”

“You give off an ice princess vibe.”

Paige could not believe what she was hearing. “Ice princess vibe?! I do not!”

“You do too.”

“How can you say something so horrible to me?”

“It's not horrible. It's the truth. Paige, you're my closest friend. You know how much I love you. I'm not saying this to hurt you. I'm trying to help.”

“
Help
me?”

“Paige, you're really beautiful and sometimes I feel like you don't want the rest of the world to know it. You've always been this way. It's like you're ashamed of your looks and so you downplay them. And you act cold and aloof to keep people at a distance because you're not sure if they like you for who you are or because of the way you look. I think it has something to do with your mother.”