Chapter 1- Second Chance Saints

“Looks good, Lisa. Go ahead and take your boy home,” Mr. Baird says. I glare at him from where I was sweeping up the aisle. The way he said boy made it sound like I’m little. I’m not.

I would object, but my mom has that smile she puts on when she knows everything is going to hell and she wants to pretend it’s not. I finish adding to the pile of desert dust and customer trash that I’d been building for the past hour. I sweep it all into the dustbin then carry it to the back of the store.

“Thank you for working so hard today,” mom starts as we walk across the dimly lit parking lot. It’s nearly 9 pm yet the heat still radiates off the blacktop. “It’s only a few hours a week… and once school starts you can quit. I know this isn’t how you wanted to spend your summer.”

“Stop,” I cut her off. If she apologizes one more time then I’m going to scream. I kick at a rock and it bounces off the trunk of a palo verde tree. “It’s fine, mom.”

“You’re getting so tall and handsome. You look just like your father when we first met. I know you have big things on the horizon. This is temporary, ok? We’re going to get back to ourselves.” She raises up on her tiptoes and kisses my forehead like I’m still her little boy.

“Yeah, mom… I know. It’s fine,” I tell her. I’d complained the whole way here from Orange County. I did it right until we pulled up to a row of pink stucco townhomes where we’d be sheltered for a few months until mom got back on her feet.

“I haven’t lived in Arizona in 20 years. I’m just not cut out for this heat like I was at your age.” Mom laughs; always trying to make light of an awful situation. She said ‘my age’ like she was elderly. Mom is barely 37.

It’s a short drive back to our new place, or “the shelter” as I’d called it last night after my mom’s best friend from childhood, Sybil, and her family helped move us in. Mom did not approve of my nickname for the new place, but she was too tired to argue.

We’ll only be here in the desert for a few months… or until my mom can figure out how to get into the workforce and get a career together that can provide for us and get us back to California. She’d assured me this was temporary, that we’d get my dad back home, and that all of this would be cleared up soon. It was a lot to promise after our world had fallen apart.

The shelter, mom grates her teeth when I call it that. It’s a simple enough place with a living room and kitchen and small dinette area that holds a two chaired table. Upstairs is laundry, two bedrooms, and a bathroom.

My room is identical to my mothers’. It holds two twin beds, a desk, and a dresser with four drawers emptied out for my use. The walls have faded paintings of desert scenes, a shepherd with his flock of pristine white sheep, and framed quotes from the bible - or verses as they like to call them.

These were missionary quarters. Mom was from here, and her best friend through childhood was a mormon girl. They’d lost touch after mom got pregnant with me, but she had quickly offered us shelter when my mom ran all the way through her contacts list and called her in desperation.

Sybil was waiting for us when we arrived. Her husband was there along with two of their sons who both looked a few years older than me. They unloaded the older SUV my dad bought six months ago to teach me driving.

Sybil offered us a tuna casserole and hugs. She talked happily as if mom had finally decided to move back home. It pissed me off at first, but then I saw mom light up. This nice lady had opened her heart to us and I could see the hope in her eyes.

I watched mom’s shell break after two months of struggling through our nightmare. This was a friend she felt safe with and that made me all warm inside. It was beautiful.

We would have to work shifts at the ministry charity store until mom could get full time employment. I’d have to do it until school started again, but I knew we wouldn’t be here that long. Mom had a college degree and had helped my dad build his investments. Still, she had no real resume, at least not things she could be proud of after dad’s empire crumbled to the ground.

This was the best we could do, for now. I had to man up and be there for her.

+++

My second day at the thrift shop finds me organizing the dish aisle. Yesterday there were four green glass plates and today there is only one. Who would buy three but think that the fourth one was just a bit much? What kind of monster could split up this family so callously? I swore I’d find the sad little plate a good home.

I had just finished arranging the glasses from tallest to shortest and was standing back admiring my work when a giant cardboard box with legs comes ambling through the front door. It shiftes aimlessly like an out of control parade float ready to wreak havoc on my nicely organized display. A desperate voice comes from behind it as it veers towards me.

“Where [gasp] can I [gasp] set this?” calls the panicked voice from behind the box. I rush towards it and slide my arms under his. He lets go and doubles over. The cute, skinny boy with red cheeks and dusty, light hair takes deep gasps then nods up at me with gratitude. He looks like he just wrestled a mountain lion.

I hold the box easily against my chest and rest my chin on top while the boy recovers from what must have been a harrowing trek from his car. His slight frame raises up and takes one last deep gasp then laughs nervously.

“How embarrassing!” he laughs and shoves his hands in his pockets.

“It’s hella hot out there,” I say to offer an excuse.

“Yup,” he swallows and rocks back and forth on his heels. “Arizona summer!”

We stare at each other for a solid minute. He is beyond adorable and my stomach flutters in a way I haven’t felt since before this whole nightmare began. He’s compact, shorter than me but solid. He has floppy, blondish hair trimmed up on the sides that accentuate his triangular face and bring out his deep emerald eyes. He reminds me of Luke Walton that I crushed on throughout seventh grade.

“The things we do for charity!” he laughs. Our eyes lock and I can tell he’s studying me too.

“Thank you for your donation that will help us reach the poor and needy around the world. They may still be poor and needy, but at least now they’ll also be Mormon,” I say in a monotone voice that made it sound like we had a mandated script. We didn’t.

He cracks a smile and it repeats in exaggerated dimples that make me weak.

I don’t know why I go for smaller guys like him. I’m not exactly a jock, but I used to hit the gym pretty hard. Back before my dad was sent back to Saudi Arabia, We went to the gym five nights a week. He’d come home from work and immediately we’d head off to the club on Santiago Canyon. We’d do a ten minute run then cycle through the weights according to a schedule he’d meticulously craft and print each week.

My taste in guys was always smaller, cuter. Surprisingly this was the only aspect of my sexuality that bothered my dad. When I’d hung with this one kid, Jackson, all last year, my dad always got this weird grimace when he’d see his painted toenails. When Jackson complained about us watching the Dodgers game, my dad would huff in disgust and head to watch it in another room.

Anytime Jax did the slightest thing that didn’t fit with what my dad thought a man should be, he’d look at me with disappointment as if to say, “This is not what you want!”

But Jax was what I wanted. Eventually I dropped him though. Dad’s disapproval was too much. I still felt like a jerk about it. His sad little eyes filled with tears when I ended it.

“Another box! Your mother is a force of nature, Tank!” Mr. Baird’s voice surprises me from behind. This kid’s name was tank? He looks anything but that.

“You can take that to the back, Hayden. And please be careful sorting through it. His mother always collects the best sellers for us. I don’t want any of it damaged. I’m sure it’s full of goodies.” Mr. Baird acts as if we are museum curators instead of an oversized garage sale in a desert outpost built on the surface of the sun.

“I’ll help him! My mom is always bugging me about volunteering more here. She’ll be happy I’m staying,” Tank smiles. Recovering from his box trauma, his voice settles into a deep, mature timbre that seems older than he looks.

“Oh! Is she here waiting for you? I have questions for her about the pioneer days display!” Mr. Baird’s excitement sounds like a kid waiting for Santa.

“No, sir. She dropped me and took my sisters to get snow cones. I’ll text her,” Tank responds. Mr. Baird looks deflated, but nods in acceptance as Tank types out a text on his phone.

I head back to the store room and set the box down on a folding table. Tank follows close behind me like a zombie as he stares down at his phone.

“Should we wear gloves when handling these treasures? Or a space suit?” I joke, referencing Mr. Baird’s severe reverence for what Tank has brought in.

“Huh? Sorry?” he asks, looking up from his phone like he’s just been pulled back from a far away galaxy.

“Nothin,” I shrug. “And uh, sorry bout the Mormon joke. I guess you’re parents are part of this?”

“My mom organizes a lot of donation drives. Junk and money for the ‘poor and needy’ as you put it.” He laughs and his voice doesn’t sound judgy or offended.

“Cool,” I say and we settle into a quiet unpacking of the wrapped glasses and folded clothes. Everything is clean and ready to be priced and put out. I finish laying it out and Tank fires up the price printer. He types in descriptions and then refers to the chart on the wall like he’s done this before.

“So is this like community service for you?” Tank finally breaks the silence. I smile and nod.

“Something like that. Just volunteering for the summer.” That’s partially true. I’m not getting paid for this, but it’s putting a roof over our heads. My smile fades suddenly when it hits me that we are the poor and needy I’d joked about.

“It must be for the long haul if they made you a name tag,” Tank says and points at the Hayden printed on a plastic tag attached to my red lanyard. “Hayden’s a cool name though.”

“Thanks. My mom’s family is from Hayden. It’s east of here, I guess. We’ve never been. How’d you get a name like Tank? Are your parents military?” I ask, changing the subject. I don’t want to get into my family story just yet.

“Nah. It’s my initials. I got stuck with my great grandfather’s name, Talmadge. I have two older brothers who got the good names, so they were kind of scraping the barrel with mine.” Tank looks at me with an embarrassed grin. I do not point out that he’s built more like a tink than a tank.

We put the priced items on a rack and then push it out to the floor to find everything a good home. As soon as we push through the door, two mom-types stop us and look over the items.

“I told you they’d have good stuff,” one lady says to the other as they begin to pilfer our cart. I sigh and crack a smile at Tank. We’re basically hostages until they finish. We exchange awkward glances while they rummage. They finally decide on a few glass items then scurry off.

“The bargain hunters are fierce here,” he notes.

“No joke. Maybe next time we cover the cart and take a secret route,” I laugh.

“You must go to Skyridge. I’ve never seen you at Mesquite,” Tank says as we find new homes for the items he’d brought in.

“I don’t know what that means,” I say after trying to figure it out in my head.

“High schools… Or you already graduated?” He looks at me with confusion.

“Ohhh! No, I’ll be a Junior in the fall, but we’ll be back in Orange County,” I nod.

“Just visiting family for the summer?” Tank gets nosey.

“Something like that. What about you?” I ask, shoving the spotlight back to him.

“Mesquite. I’ll be a Junior too. I just got my license last week! My uncle gave me his old Camry. It’s as old as I am, but… I love it…” He lights up as he talks about it.

“Sounds like a sweet whip,” I joke. Tank has a hint of insult in his eyes so I quickly added, “I doubt I’ll get a car before college.”

“I could show you around! Are you staying with family here? I know it seems boring around here, but it’s really lowkey lit if you know what to do. I can pick you up,” Tank goes on excitedly. It feels like he is asking me out, but he’s also a nice, clean, mormon boy so he maybe he’s just being neighborly. Still, it wasn’t like I had any other offers.

“I’d like that,” I say. His eyes light up and a hint of blush crosses his cheeks. Does Mr. wholesome like me back? Is he making the first move?

+++

Tank helps me for another hour. I avoid mom whenever I spot her. I don’t need to explain her working here to Tank. I wasn’t ready for that.

We talk the whole time, well mostly he talks and I avoided anything too personal. It feels like I’m dancing through a minefield with him. He tells me all about his siblings and friends. He seems amazed that I’m an only child with no cousins or family. He says it must be lonely. Sometimes it is, but I’d always had my parents’ full attention.

Just after 11 Mr. Baird finds us and says I’ve done sufficient hours for the day. Apparently not-quite-16 year olds have a time limit of work hours per week in Arizona and I had put in a solid 8 the day before.

“Hey! It’s not even noon. Why don’t we hang out?” Tank asks as I go to the back to clock out. I’d need to tell mom I was leaving, but I can’t do that with him here.

“Sure, but I’m pretty rank, bro. Maybe this afternoon?” I was going to have to walk back to the shelter in this hundred degree heat.

He likes that idea. We exchange numbers and he puts his contact info into my phone with little tank and explosion emojis next to it. So adorable. I put mine in his phone contacts as Hayden with a palm tree emoji before it and an ocean wave after it. He looks at it and his face opens into that dimpled smile that makes my stomach flutter.

He says he’ll come pick me up. I can’t risk him seeing the shelter so we settle on the park behind the auto dealerships off Superstition Springs. He texts me a frog emoji so I’d have something in my phone from him.

When I find mom, she’s going through children’s books and organizing them by the authors. She excitedly tells me that she has a meeting this afternoon with a job counselor who hoped to do something with her interior design degree from Arizona State. That means I get a free ride home. I heave a sigh of relief as I look out the window and watch a man scurry from his car towards the shade of the shopping center walkway.

I told her my afternoon plans with Tank. It made her happy to see me doing normal things teenage boys should do. She thought it was nice I had made a friend whose parents donated so much to the thrift ministry. I gave her his phone number because I knew she’d never let me leave without having it.

I let her get ready for her important business and then quickly shower and change. I wish her luck and we head out together.

Chapter 2- Mesa me, Sherpa

I take shelter from the unforgiving Arizona heat under a sparse Palo Verde near the shore of a too-blue-to-be-real lake. Tank rolls up a few minutes later in a busted Camry that needs a good scrub down. He beams from behind the wheel after hooking a u-turn to stop at the curb near me.

“Your family lives in those townhomes? Pretty nice! I’ve been back in there. I swam in the pool there once!” He shows me a proud smile. I wonder what it was like to always beam with happiness. I used to feel that way about life.

“Yeah. I haven’t tried it yet. Where are we off to, my Mesa wonders tour guide?” I try to mirror his enthusiasm for life, but from me it sounds phony, forced.

“Oh first we hit Dutch Brothers! I need my frozen drink in this weather! My friend works there and he makes a Tank special. It’s a sugar bomb but so fierce!” He looks over at me and bares his teeth like he isn’t sure how I’ll take his mild announcement.

“Sounds good, my Mesa sherpa!” I laugh. He is too cute for words.

He drives in silence for a few minutes and his smile melts off into what looks like angry confusion. He hops to the other side of the 60 freeway and then turns down Southern Avenue. We stop at a way too long red light and he just stares ahead like he’s wrestling with something.

“I have to confess something,” he says without looking at me. I can see the dread in his eyes and feel a protective growl in my chest.

“What are your sins, my son?” I say with a voice I hope sounds like a wise priest.

“No, it’s serious. I just… well the guy who makes my special drink. He and I kind of… well he likes me, like in a… a gay way, you know? We went out…” He won’t raise his eyes to meet mine.

“How gay a way is it?” I ask, trying to ease the tension with a joke.

“Well… so ok… we went out once. He’s nice and all… I just didn’t like him like that. Just warning you in case he acts weird.” Tank screws up his face like he was… he was scared to look at me.

It hit me like a shock. He’s trying to come out to me as if he doesn’t know I like guys too. He hadn’t picked up on the fact that I had been crushing on him all morning. I was stunned.

I think quietly then realize I’ve been thinking quietly for too long. We pull up to the coffee place. It’s an outdoor hut with a drive through and side patio covered from the blazing sun. I realize I need to speak. He parks and looks over at me then quickly looks back down at his lap.

“Is that the guy?” I ask and point to a cute skinny kid taking an order at the front window.

“Julian. That’s… yeah. So if you’re weirded out by the guy-guy thing just tell me. We can go somewhere else or… I can take you home. Ok? I just… I’m me, ok? I like guys. Not everyone knows that, but…” Tank speaks so awkwardly and his voice cracks every fourth syllable.

“So that’s my competition?” I laugh.

“Uh… what?” He looks up at me suddenly and then a smile spreads across his lips.

“My competition for your admiration. I gotta beat him up or something? What’s the rules here, cuz you’re hella cute.” I laugh.

I didn’t have his weirdness with my sexual identity. I’d never even come out. My parents just knew. When my mom asked me in fifth grade if I liked any of the girls I’d responded with no. Then she’d asked if I liked any of the boys and I’d said yes. That was it. From then on she just acted like it wasn’t a big deal. She must have told my dad too because after that short conversation he seemed to get it too.

“No… he’s nice. Wait! You… like me too?” he asks as if he misheard me.

“Maybe.” I grin. “Can’t just fall for the first cute boy I see. I have to look around a bit.”

Tank blushes wildly and turns off the car. Immediately it begins to fill with heat as the sun cracks its way through the windows. We sit there for a minute, sweating but I’m not opening my door until he opens his. The ball is in his court and I’ve just thrown him a big one.

“Well now,” he swallows. “This just got interesting.”

He leaves it there and gets out of the car. We order the Tank specials and this new kid, Julian, eyes me like I just broke out of the state prison, whatever Arizona’s version of San Quentin must be. I hang back while Tank orders and stare this kid down.

That’s when I realize the problem. I only have five bucks in my wallet and I’m supposed to spend the day with Tank and this more than breaks what little money I have. I didn’t even know Julian and I was already losing to him.

He rings us up and Tank immediately goes for his wallet. I pull mine out too, but Tank waves me off with a “No! This is my drink and my treat!”

I relent. I hate it, but I have little choice.

We step back to wait and Julian helps the next customers, but keeps his glare on me. Tank tells me all about his special drink which is a combination of the birthday cake freeze and the almond bar freeze with a drizzle of hazelnut. It sounds really strange, but he’s so excited that I can’t help but want it. It’s well over a hundred degrees outside, but the shade and fans make it not feel unbearable.

“Do you have these in LA?” he asks, avoiding the bombs we’d dropped in the car.

“Nah, just coffee bean and starbucks and peet’s and philz and portola and coffee lab and coffee schmoffee and…” I trail off.

“Well those places suck compared to this one!” he laughs. He’s really selling it. “We go out to San Diego every other year. My dad’s brother lives there and it’s awesome during the summer! I’m so jealous. It must be awesome to grow up out there.”

“Love San Diego! My dad has friends down there with a kickin yacht. It’s the best!” I start to expound on this but then realize that scenario will never happen again as said friends lost a ton on my dad’s failed investments. We now had a lot of people who would never want to see us again.

“Wow. Your parents sound awesome. Are they back in California? Do you have to call and check in every day? My mom goes nuts when we’re out of the house, even for a night!” Tank shakes his head like it’s crazy to be loved so protectively.

I start to tell him, but the hold back. It’s a lot to unload and I just me this kid and he’s so sweet and cute and wholesome and perfect. He does cartwheels over a stupid coffee drink and blushes like crazy just finding out I like him. I am one big red flag and I’m not ready to wave it just yet.

Julian saves me by calling out that our drinks are ready. I jump up from the plastic table and run to get them. I thank him and he just grunts at me like I’m garbage. Screw Julian.

I hand one to Tank and then take a sip, wondering if Julian had poisoned it. It was basically hazelnut flavored sugar and Tank looks at me with these huge green eyes full of anticipation as I take the first sip.

“It’s… good,” I say. It’s not horrible, but definitely something I’d be ok not having again, unless it made Tank this happy. I’d do anything to see that smile that echoes through his wide dimples.

“All right then! We have our drinks, let’s see the sights!” He gives an exaggerated grin like we’re about to see a two headed albino giraffe. I love seeing Arizona through his eyes.

We get back into his car and it’s already a heatbomb. He rolls down the windows and cranks up the AC to blow the heat back out where it belongs before we head back out onto the road.

“That Julian,” I say to break the silence. “Pretty hot competition. I don’t know if I can equate.”

“For real, Hayden? No way. You’re uber cute!” Tank flashes me that look like he can’t believe I’d doubt myself, but then he catches my grin and realizes I’m just fishing for compliments.

He shows me his high school and the park he likes to skate at with his friends. Both are deserted with the heat and we just do a slow circle around a few parking lots while he tells me about his adventures in this dusty, desert suburbia.

“Oh! And I am in the Spanish club. Yo Me llamo Tanque !” he laughs.

“What does that mean?” I took beginner Arabic last year since my dad had never taught me much of it.

“You don’t speak Spanish? Do your parents?” he asks with confusion.

“No. Why would…” I start but then it dawns on me that he’s mistaken the mix of my mom’s pale shade and my father’s strong Arab nose for Latino ancestry. “I’m not Hispanic.”

“Oh,” Tank turns a perfect shade of crimson.

“My dad is from Saudi Arabia and my mom is from here. I would look like you except for my dad’s gift of the Saudi nose,” I joke.

“I like it… A lot. My parents came from Utah and their great grandparents probably came from New York before that. We’re deep LDS,” he nods like this is a point of pride.

We spend the rest of the afternoon seeing his favorite places. His activities include mini-golf, skating, baseball, and something called glow bowl where you bowl in the dark with black lights, glow sticks, and a ball that… glows. He says they play good music and it’s as close to a dance club you can find out here. He makes everything sound so magical, even the sad little water park just east of a dead mall.

He offers to take me for the best burger in Mesa, but I tell him I ate at home. It’s a lie, but I need to avoid another awkward no-money situation.

“It’s cool. I should get home anyway. My mom wants all of us home for dinner in a few hours,” he says. I hate to end this. It feels like we’ve spent a year together.

He heads back to my place and his hand rests on the shifter knob. It’s an automatic, but he keeps it there and grips it like he’s about to race. I don’t know why, but I reach over and cover his hand with mine. He raises his fingers so they poke up between mine. I like Tank. I like him a lot.

+++

At home, mom is back from her meeting and sitting at the small dining table looking at something on her laptop.

“You had fun?” she asks as I walk in. There’s so much hope in her eyes.

I sit across from her and she closes her computer. I tell her about everything we saw and even Tank’s awkward coming out. I leave out the awkward no-money parts. She doesn’t need more worries.

“I’m so happy for you!” She lights up.

“I’m happy too,” I tell her and soak in her smile.

I get up and start to make a sandwich. We have a few groceries in the fridge that her friend’s family bought for us.

“Don’t fill up. Sybil is making us a big dinner. I ironed a shirt for you and wear those khakis you got for Christmas.” she tells me. I groan. I really don’t feel like being a charity case tonight.

“Don’t make that face. She has gone way above for us. I forgot how caring she always was. I should have kept up with her all these years. I just feel awful about it,” mom says with a look of heavy regret.

“Ok, ok, ok,” I relent. “I’ll look nice and be on my best behavior.”

“I know you will. You’ll skype your father when we get home. He misses you like crazy.” Mom is pushing it here and she knows.

“I’m not ready for that.” I shake my head and put a slice of cheese onto a handful of turkey meat.

“He never meant to hurt you, Hayd.” She looks up with sorrow.

“I don’t want to talk about this.” I take a big bite of my sandwich but my stomach drops.

“Well I’ll skype him. Just hear him out. He’d do anything for you.” She keeps her eyes on me hoping for a miracle.

“Kay,” I nod. I take my sandwich and head up to my room. I don’t want to fight with her.

+++

The shirt my mom ironed for me was one I had made sure to put at the very back of the closet. It was a short-sleeved button up, dark blue with little white palm trees. It was one of two she had bought for Easter pictures. The other was in my dad’s size and matched exactly. She’d stood between us in a white dress and we’d had pictures taken on the edge of cliffs in Laguna. It was a few months ago and a lifetime away from where our family had been.

I put it on and find my nice khakis and black vans. I spend twenty minutes working gel into my black hair to get the right wave. She meets me downstairs wearing a nice dress and the diamond earrings she’d saved from the repo men. Even after all this she knows how to look like an upscale Orange County power wife. Mom is nothing if not resilient.

We get into the car and things feel normal for once. Sure it’s hot as hell out there, but we look like we’re heading off to meet my dad for a fancy dinner in LA. I close my eyes and picture us pulling up to the valet at the place dad loves on a cliff in Malibu. We only went there for the special occasions.

We pull into a neighborhood not too far from the townhomes. It’s the same melted creamsicles that dominate every neighborhood around here, but these are much bigger. The homes weren’t nicer, just bigger. She pulled in front of a particularly large creamsicle and we get out. She remembers to put the sunshade in the window. The sun is still blazing and we already sweated through the four minute drive over here.

“Oh it’s lovely,” mom says as we walk up a creamsicle path between beds of creamsicle gravel and palm trees.

“Sure,” I nod in support.

She rings the bell and a small blonde girl answers the door then yells for her mother. Sybil and her husband round the corner and greet us. I get hugs and we walk inside.

Their house is clean, but stuffed. It looks like a lot of people live here and each one has very different interests. The front foyer opens to an immaculate dining room to the left with a huge table that could fit a basketball team. To the right is a family room with two big couches along the south and west wall. There’s a tv with gaming systems and baskets of toys and books. A surprisingly chill golden retriever lifts his head to look at me then settles back into his nap.

The walls are lined with scriptures and family pictures showing a group of 8 happy people through various seasons and trips. She ushers us in to sit on the couch before I can get a good look at them. The youngest three kids come in and I immediately get an intro to their hobbies and school performance. She introduces them as Levi, Tabitha, and Hannah.

My mom fakes a bit too much interest in hearing all about their accomplishments. She compliments how beautiful the kids are as if they were models. I nod in agreement and my stomach rumbles at the smell of meat in the distance.

The two older boys from the move-in night come down and try to engage me in a bro handshake. I remembered their names as Brigham and Gideon; two old man names.

“Ready!” booms another voice accompanied by heavy footsteps bounding down the stairs behind us. I turn to look as he rounds the corner and Tank’s face surprises me.

We froze as our eyes met and then for some dumb reason I turned to my mom as if I could hide behind her.

“This is our middle son, Talmadge.” Sybil waves a hand at Tank. My mom shakes his hand like she did with all the others. She’s unaware of the situation here.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Davis!” Tank shows his manners.

“Of course! Another handsome boy,” mom rattles on with her positivity train.

“I met Hayden at the store today! He’s the kid I showed the sights to this afternoon,” Tank says to his family and his mother smiles proudly.

“Oh, that’s very nice of you,” My mom starts with a happy tone but then falters as it dawns on her the conversation we’d had that afternoon. She looks over at me with a quick stab of anger that quickly turns back into a forced smile.

She didn’t have to say a word. I knew what she was thinking. We’d just gotten a net of hope, a hand out of this nightmare and me crushing on the golden boy of her best friend would threaten all of it. Judging from the scriptures on the wall and the pride they had in their son, I doubted they knew anything about his preference for boys. I could be wrong, I’d love to be wrong. But I doubted that I was.

If I pursued Tank, we’d eventually be found out. His parents would know and they’d blame it on me and my California morals. They’d think I corrupted him and we’d be out on our asses. My stomach turned. I couldn’t do that to my mother, not after all she’d been through. My dad had let her down. My dad had ruined our family and it was up to me to help rebuild it, not destroy it further.

“Yeah, thanks for that!,” I put on a cheery smile and waited for things to quiet down.

Mom didn’t need to worry. I’d put a stop to this right now. Tank was off limits and so was any boy I might have caught the twinkling smile of. I wouldn’t be the one to ruin this for mom, for us. She needed and deserved to get things back on track. She was here working herself crazy for us. She wasn’t off goofing with guys and trying to date in my father’s absence. She had her nose down and her eyes focused. I could do that too. I would do that. I’d man up for her.

I put my head on my mom’s shoulder. I felt her body relax. She understood.

Chapter 3 - Tank you, Next!

We make it through dinner ok. 

I avoid Tanks’ eyes. I turn up the charm with the Kemptons and compliment his mom’s amazingly over-cheesed cooking. It was amazing these people weren’t overweight the way they ate. We had a turkey with some kind of potato casserole and bread, lots of bread. Everyone drank kool-aid or milk. They pray and sing a little song about the savior before eating. It’s so weird, but mom seems into it.

One thing becomes increasingly obvious throughout the dinner, Tank’s parents have no idea their son likes boys. They talk about him making the baseball team and being too shy with the cheerleader assigned to him as his “pep sponsor.”

“He gets so awkward around Jessica! It’s adorable! She had a crush on Gideon during his senior year when she was a freshman, but she seems just as smitten with Talmadge! She made him the biggest poster for homecoming! She covered his locker in blue and white tank cutouts. Then wrote ’Blow ‘em away, Tank!’” his mom tells us with a hearty laugh.

“He still has it on his closet door!” his dad adds.

I laugh at the irony of Tank having “blow ’em away” on his closet door. I decide it would be a thought best kept to myself.

“A ladies man!” I whisper to Tank as he’s turning beet red.

“Not him. He’s focused. Sports and grades. Two more years and he’ll be coasting into BYU with a full ride,” his dad corrects.

“Hayden will be at USC! The marching band is legendary and his grades will get him in!” Mom can’t help but brag. It’s what parents do.

“You play an instrument?” Tank sits up like a meerkat and his blushing cheeks fade to pink.

“Flute! But also guitar. It’s just kinda hard to march with a guitar,” I say.

“And he sings! He is so talented,” mom goes on. She is the ultimate sales rep when it comes to bragging about me.

“I’d love to hear! There’s a sign up for art nights at the teen center! You should totally do it!” Tank raises his excitement level past the acceptable limit.

“That’s a fine idea! It’s open to non LDS kids too,” his mom says.

“That would be a good way to make some new friends,” my mom adds.

After dinner, Tank invites me to see his room. I wanted so badly to go with him, to see where the angel boy rested his perfect little body, but I knew better.

“I think mom’s had a long day. We should probably get going soon,” I say and Tank looks confused. I turn to mom and she nods with appreciation.

“Mr. Baird says you’ve really gone above and beyond at the store! You always gave a hundred percent, Lisa!” Mrs. Kempton says with genuine appreciation.

“You too, Syb! I mean just look at this house and these kids. You really got everything you wanted!” Mom coos back.

“We’ve been blessed,” Mr Kempton corrects. “Heavenly father has been good to us.” He squeezes his wife’s shoulder and she looks like she’s about to cry from joy.

We exchange more overly sugared pleasantries before mom and I take our leave for the evening. She puts her hand on my shoulder the way she does when she’s proud of me. I didn’t embarrass her.

+++

“Should we talk about this?” she asks in the car when we are safely down the street.

“No need, mom. He’s off limits. Don’t worry. I just, I can’t. No dating Tank for me.” I waive my hands like I’m trying to land a plane.

“No, baby. C’mon Hayd. You like him. It was so obvious how hard you tried to avoid looking at him.” Mom shakes her head then hits the steering wheel. “I hate this. It’s not fair to you! You should be able to go for him. He likes you and there is nothing wrong with who you are. You have every right to be proud of it. I don’t want you hiding, not for my sake. This sucks, kid. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine, mom.” I offer a smile. “We gotta be focused, right? That’s what you said when we crossed the state line. Two months and we’ll be home, right?”

“God I hope so,” she sighs. “What did I do to earn a kid like you? I mean, really, Hayden. It’s so not fair to you. He’s a cute kid. Reminds me of that kid you had a crush on. What was his name?”

“Luke!” I answer dreamily. “And yeah, he’s kinda perfect. But this isn’t the time to think about myself. Ok? Remember when we trained for the Laguna marathon?”

“You cursed at your father! You were so done! You got halfway through and pitched a fit!” She laughs.

“I was ten, mom. But really. We finished it, right? It sucked but we stuck it out and kept going. Remember what you told me? You said we’re a family and families get through things together. You told me we were going to finish this even if dad had to carry me!” I laughed.

“We pushed you too hard. We always do and now your childhood is gone. We robbed you of it, didn’t we? God this is not how I wanted things to turn out for you. You don’t deserve this.” Her voice catches like she’s about to cry hard.

“No… It’s just… This is how things are now. Ok? We can’t cry about it. We’ll work like crazy and get things back to good. Dad’ll come home and things’ll be good, Ok?” I reached over and took her hand as we stopped at the light on Baseline.

She wipes her eyes with the back of my hand. “When this is over I’m going to buy you whatever car you want? Ok? No worries about the price. Big red sports car. Ok? I’ll drive a toyota if I have to, but we’re going to make this up to you!” She sniffles then the light turns green and gives us permission to go home.

I stare down at my hand, stained with my mother’s drying tears. The desert heat soaks them up until their just a smudge of salt. This is what matters. Family matters. Nothing else matters.

I get ready for bed that night and see I have three messages from Tank.

Him: You mad at me? Did I say something wrong?

Him: I didn’t know what happened to your family. I’m so sorry.

Him: I hope you don’t think I was judging you! I wouldn’t do that. Please don’t be mad at me. Ok?

Me: I’m not mad. I just can’t get into things with you. I have to work on my family right now and my mom needs me to focus. Plus, are you even out to your parents? Do they know about you?

Him: No! They wouldn’t handle it well. I couldn’t do that to them. Your parents know about you?

Me: They do. They love me for who I am. I don’t hide anything from them. I even told my mom about liking you.

Him: You did? You don’t think she’ll tell my mom. Do you? Please tell her not to. [sad face emoji]

Me: Of course not. My mom is totally cool. But see? This wouldn’t be good for you either. It could get us both in big trouble. Friends, ok? Friends is good?

Him: Friends is great. Friends is yes! Let’s do that! [big toothy smile emoji]

I text him back a happy face then a sleepy face. I’m not tired at all, but I need to end this before I confess how cute he looked tonight in his button up green shirt that matched his perfect emerald eyes. I can’t tell him that he will most definitely be starring in my personal time session before bed.

He writes back with a tank emoji then the eggplant then an embarrassed grin. I laugh but I don’t write him back. I can’t. Goodbye Tank. You’re the kind of perfect I can’t resist, but I have to man up now. My family needs me.

+++

My mom calls me downstairs. She has her laptop open and I see my father’s face on the screen. I immediately back away in disgust. I can’t face him.

“Hayden!” his voice booms. He always says my name wrong. His Arabic accent says it like “HIE-dunn”

I stay out of his view. I’m not about to talk to him or pretend that I’m cool with the havoc he wreaked on us. I shrink back towards the couch and sit on the edge of it.

“He’s here, Ali. Talk to him, but don’t yell. He can hear you. He’s sitting behind me.” Mom tells dad. She always tries to mediate between us. She always tries to make peace when one of us is upset.

Dad takes a deep breath then starts over.

“I know you must hate me right now, little one. I am sorry for what I put you through. Your baba will make this right. I miss you so much.” He uses the Arabic word for daddy. He always talks to me like I’m a toddler. He never acknowledged that I grew up.

I don’t respond.

“Please, little one. You must be brave for your mommy. She cannot do this alone,” he pleads.

That little emotional plea ignites the pile of raw emotions inside me. Time for boom.

“She wouldn’t have to if you’d married her and applied for citizenship! She wouldn’t have to do any of this if you hadn’t screwed people out of their money and did illegal things. She wouldn’t be lowered to this if you had been a man! Don’t you put this on me!” I unleash on him.

I raise up off the couch and stare at him on the computer screen. My mother gasps, my father lowers his head.

“You are young. You don’t understand these things. You don’t know what it is to have families reject you like ours did. My parents would have disowned me completely if I had married your mother. Hers would have as well. I am connecting with them here and working to get us help. I will have money soon and I will return to take care of you both. I will make this right.” I recognize that look in my father’s eyes. He thinks I’m some client he needs to sell this to. It’s lies. I know him too well.

“Sure, Baba. Sounds good. You let me know when you do that so mom and I can stop working at a thrift store and begging for charity,” I nod then turn my back to him and head upstairs. He had a lot of talk. I’d wait to see his action.

“I love you little one… more than you will ever understand,” my dad’s voice calls weakly as I walk away.

I freeze because I’d never heard that tone from him. He’d never been a failure before, not to me at least. My monolith of a father, the man who could slay every monster lurking under my bed; it was all just an illusion. None of it was ever real.

“Give him time, Ali. He will be ok,” my mom says as I bound up the stairs. I don’t hear my father’s response.

+++

My third day at the thrift store starts with donuts and coffee. We get there at 8:30 to prep for the 9:00 am opening. One of the volunteers brought in a big box of donuts and fresh coffee. Mom is eager to get going on the children’s section, but she stops to grab a cup.

I join her in the toys area. She is organizing a box of assorted toy parts into little bags. They sell mixed up toy parts by the bag. What kind of psycho buys a bag of random toy parts? I kneel beside her and begin to help. The box smells like an old garage. I wonder if these kids miss any of the crap.

“You didn’t need to even come today. You’re ahead of your volunteer hours. Why don’t you take the day off and walk to the mall? It’s not too hot out yet and I can pick you up later,” mom offers.

“I’m good here, mom. Maybe I can make up some of your hours and then we can go to the mall later together? They have a corn dog place!” I laugh. Mom hates junk food.

She starts to respond, but then something behind me catches her eye and her laugh softens to a sad little smile. I turn to see what she’s looking at and find Tank standing over me looking adorable and holding two coffee cups.

“I thought I’d volunteer again,” he says. “I brought you one.” He pushes a cup towards me.

“I just had coffee,” I say, not happy to see him. It’s not that I’m not happy to see him. It’s just that it’s hard to push him out of my mind when he shows up like this.

“It’s not coffee. My mom made oat drink for everyone. Mormons don’t do caffeine,” he laughs.

Tank seems to have a preoccupation with making me try strange new concoctions. I look up at him and my face must have been the peak of skepticism because he immediately gives me this pouty look and puppy dog eyes. For that face I’ll drink anything.

“I love oat drink. I was just telling mom how much I miss it,” I joke with a straight face.

“Really? You had it in California?” Tank lights up. My mom laughs and gives away the sarcasm of my comment.

Tank deflates. I love that about him. He doesn’t hide his emotions. I take the cup from him and take a chug. It comes out like a warm milkshake and coats my throat in a sugary maple ooze. These people love carbs.

“That’s really something!” I say. He bites his lip and his dimples crease.

“So we’re working on toy bags this morning?” Tank asks as if self-inviting to our activity.

“I think I can handle this one on my own. Why don’t you help Hayden with the kitsch rack? It’s pretty messy,” my mom suggests.

“No… mom!” I give her a look of confusion. Last night we’d agreed that Tank was off limits. He was the son of her best friend, the friend who was helping us not be homeless.

“Go,” she says. She reaches over, squeezes my wrist and takes the half-full bag from me. “Go.”

Tank and I head over to the kitsch section clutching our sugary oat mixtures. It’s two big racks stuffed with ceramic odds and ends that everyone gives but no one wants.

“Where do we start?” Tank looks at me with concern.

“It’s pretty bear heavy. Why don’t we put them all together on the same shelf?” I start to pull random ceramic bears out from between the old clocks and souvenir ashtrays.

“Maybe they’re separated for a reason though. This one in the church dress is staring pretty heavy at this soldier bear.” Tank turns her to the side so the soldier can get some peace.

“She does look pretty thirsty. Maybe we put her up here with the porcelain cat family. They can keep an eye on her.” I move her up a shelf and secure her in the middle of the cat’s den.

“Look at this! A bobblehead Zack Greinke. His little mullet wiggles! I guess you’re not a D-backs fan? More of an Angels’ guy?” Tank asks. He likes baseball. Dad would approve.

“Dodgers all the way!” I start to expound on this, but then Tank tries to move a particularly large porcelain cat up to the top shelf. He’s on his tiptoes and barely manages to slide it onto the rack. I can see it push a wooden eagle statue towards the side edge and I slide behind him.

I reach up over him and push the eagle back into place before it can fall. I save the eagle, but my chest presses against his back, my shorts push up against his bottom. His warmth feels so good against me.

My body instantly responds and for some reason Tank pushes back into me. His body on mine makes me close my eyes for just a second. It feels too good and I just want to kiss that spot on the back of his neck. I inhale his scent; sweat, soap, and desert dust. It makes my abs tense up and I just want to taste him.

“Oh,” he sighs.

I back away and feel my cheeks burn bright red. I turn my tent away from him and try to think of anything else.

“I… we can’t.” I stutter.

“I know,” he whispers. He sucks in his lower lip and his perfect eyes look bigger than they should be. We are both so lost here.

“Where’s the crystal unicorn that was here yesterday? The worker that was here promised to put it aside for me!” a voice interrupts us. I turn to see my elderly female savior and focus on the sun beaten lines around her lips to help calm my body down.

“Crystal unicorn! I’ll check in the back, ma’am.” I flee the crime scene and race to the back.

I do some jumping jacks in the store room and splash cold water on my face before finding the unicorn wrapped in paper and labeled “Save for Marilyn until 6/20/19.”

I bring it back to Marilyn and see Tank kneeling beside her cart shuffling ceramic frogs around on the bottom rack. She takes her unicorn and pushes away from us.

“She was so excited about that unicorn. I can’t imagine being that excited about anything here,” he laughs then looks up at me and reconsiders.

“Lots of treasures here,” I nod. We get back to organizing and spend the next hour working in silence, not addressing what happened.

“Why don’t we get out of here? I have a season pass to the big league batting cages that includes bringing a friend. It’s not air conditioned, but it’s totally shaded.” Tank finally breaks the silence as we’re doing returns… yes people return things to thrift stores.

“I don’t know. Maybe that’s not a great idea if we’re trying to just be friends?” I need to set some boundaries here for my own sanity.

“We’re friends, right? Friends hit balls and do stuff together.” Tank pleads with his eyes.

I stare him down but I know I’ll cave. My chest feels weak just seeing him look so vulnerable.

“Tomorrow morning… before it gets too hot,” I say. Tank gives me a wide grin. I’m not sure about this, but he’s not going to give up and… maybe I don’t want him to.

Chapter 4- Hayden At Bat

I normally give about two seconds thought to what I’m going to wear. Plus! With the heat here, it’s basically shorts and whatever t-shirt I pull out of the stack. But this morning feels different. It feels like a date, but it most definitely cannot be one. I grab a dodgers shirt and loose basketball shorts in case anything pops up.

It’s already crazy hot by 9 AM when I open the front door to find Tank looking cute in a tight blue compression shirt that hugged his developing chest and a blue BYU baseball cap. He was definitely set on that college.

“You ready to go down in flames, boy-eee?” Tank comes out with this deep and creepy voice. He sneers at me and tips his baseball cap as if to say I’ve been warned. It’s kinda hot, but I burst out laughing and his persona breaks.

“C’mon, Hayden! I’m trying to psyche you out! You weren’t supposed to laugh!” Tank whines.

“It’s just… Do you even get how cute you are?” I ask and instantly regret my words. Tank blushes and kicks at the stone entryway of our humble townhome.

“I do. I try to only use my power for good though. I will not let this beauty ruin my caring heart!” Tank put the back of his hand to his forehead like he’s feeling faint from the struggle.

I just grin. I know it’s useless to fight this. He’s too cute to fight it.

“We better get going. I reserved a cage for us and they start the hour whether you’re there or not!” Tank has this down to a science.

He races down Baseline then makes the turn light at Val Vista. We get a tour of more creamsicle dotted neighborhoods. It’s like an ice cream truck bomb landed on this city and spewed peach stucco over everything.

The batting place is tucked away in the back of a recreation center near a deserted playground. He raced here but there are only two other cars in the lot.

“Looks busy. I hope they have enough balls!” I point towards the wide open lot.

“Players get lazy in the summer. It’s easy to take off when it’s this hot, but when you want to be good at something you have to put in the work.” Tank says this like he’s heard it from his parents a million times.

We start to get out but then he reaches over the gear shifter and puts his hand on mine. It warms me from the inside and I pause for a minute to soak it in. I look over and his big green eyes are drinking me in. My heart begins to pound and I can feel my shorts start to tent. I pulled away from him. This was not a date.

“Hayden,” Tank starts, but I’m already out of his car.

“Let’s do this!” I yell and sprint up towards the batting place. Tank grabs his bag and follows me. I don’t look back to check on him. He has a season pass to this place and the old guy working the booth knows him. We head into the cage on the far end. There’s only one other kid there, two cages down.

It’s already hot out and there isn’t much shade, but Tank sets up the cage like a pro. He brought several bats and he picks them up and weighs them as if he hasn’t seen them before.

“This should be best for you. Not too heavy, is it?” he asks. He hands me the bat and then goes to check the pitching machine. I have no idea what weight a bat should be, but I tell him it’s great. He lets me go first. I take my stance over the center base and he turns the machine on.

There’s a little beep before it sends a ball hurtling towards me. I’d been to a batting cage before, but it was years ago with my dad. I square up and take a swing. I hit the first ball and get an appreciative nod from Tank who’s watching from near the pitch.

“Good, good. Ease up on your stance. Not so tight,” he coaches and instantly it makes me feel like I’m doing something wrong.

The second ball comes out and I swing but miss it. Tank squats down and studies me. He’s so focused and it distracts me. The third ball comes out and I miss it entirely, not even close.

“Dude. That was an easy one!” he laughs.

“It was too easy. I didn’t trust it,” I joke, but he doesn’t laugh. Baseball is serious business.

“You’re way too tight. It’s a ball, not a missile! Lemme show you,” Tank runs over and dodges the fourth ball.

“I got it!” I try to waive him off. I miss the fourth ball completely, and before I can protest much he’s right up behind me.

“Ease this up. You’re not posing for prom,” he notes and grabs my right thigh to pull my stance wider. His touch is dangerously close to the zone I am trying to avoid thinking with.

“Woah,” I jump back a little and land against his chest. He pushes right up behind me and his arms are over mine. He’s smaller than me, but he more than adequately envelopes me in his hold. His hands come up to cover where I’m gripping the bat.

The fifth ball sails out and he pulls my arms back and takes a perfect swing at it. It makes a satisfying crack against the bat and hits the cage just above the pitch.

“Perfect! See that? Hack yah!” Tank glows with mormon curse words.

“Hey I got a point!” I nod up to the scoreboard.

“Again!” he says as the sixth ball hurtles towards us. We get through the first ten balls like that. He keeps a tight grip on me and we’re sweating under the morning sun. He’s pushing against me and it makes my body react in ways that shouldn’t happen in a public place. He’s completely focused on showing me the right stance and unaware of what he’s doing to me.

“This feels weird. I’m the one who should be holding you.” I shift uncomfortably in his arms.

“Then you shouldn’t be the one who sucks at batting,” he jokes and tightens his grip. The balls keep coming and Tank keeps puppetting me through it.

“Your turn,” I say when we finish the first round. There’s a bench off to the side and I dive for it and cover my lap. He looks at me weirdly but then refills the machine and goes through a perfect routine. He hits every ball and the scoreboard rejoices with a happy ding when he hits twenty.

“You demolished me! Six feet under!” I laugh as Tank hits the last ball. He turns to me like he’s been in another world. His lips crack into a smile and his chest puffs up.

“You’ll get there, Hayden. Just practice. Let’s take a break, yeah? I want nachos!” He puts his bats away and I help him collect the balls in a wire basket.

We get to the concession stand near the playground and there’s a few kids ahead of us ordering icees. I would kill for one right now, but I quickly scan the price board to see what I can afford. The five bucks I had in my wallet yesterday now has an additional five since mom gave me some lunch money this morning.

“I got this,” Tank says when I pull out my wallet.

“No! You got the cage!” I protest with confidence. Things aren’t too expensive here.

“My dad gave me some extra money to get lunch!” He fires back with a tone that sounds as if he’s talking to a sick kid. Make-a-wish Hayden is not who I want to be to him.

“I got it,” I say with maybe a little too much force. He shrinks back and nods.

We get to the front and I order us a big nacho. It’s a plastic tub of round yellow chips with a big splash of orange cheese and jalapenos on top. It’s 5 dollars, but then the guy asks what drinks we want.

“Ooh Cherry icee!” Tank looks at me as if it’s too much. It’s 3 bucks and I can’t say no to that smile. I nod.

“And for you?” the guy asks me. I total up in my head to 8 bucks which means no icee for me. I settle on a bottle of water and Tank looks at me with guilt. I don’t want this to be a thing and it feels like it’s becoming a thing.

“Too much sugar for this heat,” I reason. Tank nods and his happy smile returns.

We take our big nacho across to an area between two ponds where there are big red clay rocks between the desert gravel. It’s shaded by big palo verdes. It’s quiet except for the bubbling sound of the waterfall brook that connects the lakes.

“These are spicy. You want them?” Tank uses a chip to push the jalapenos to one side as we settle into our rocky top picnic. I nod and take a chip stacked with the green devils.

We’re both sweaty and gross, but sitting beside him on a sun-baked rock with only a flimsy plastic container separating us feels really good. He tells me about all the times his dad has brought him here and points out the children’s train he loved riding when he was younger.

“So Thursday you’re on stage!” he says as if suddenly remembering this fact.

“Performing? Oh! I dunno. It’ll be all mormon kids, right? What if they aren’t into my music,” I ask. What I’m really thinking about is the fact that I haven’t picked up my guitar since this whole nightmare started. Performing for Tank was not going to go well.

“You’ll be great! They are so supportive and most of the talent is pure tragedy. The girl doing poetry before you is always really weepy. They’ll be happy for anything that follows her!” He picks up a chip and shoves it into his mouth. It leaves a smear of cheese on his cheek that I fight the urge to lick.

“How many songs do I do? What do I sing? I haven’t performed in months!” I take another chip.

“Whatever you want. It’ll be great! You can practice on me!” he shrugs and eats another chip.

“I don’t know, Tank.” The thought of playing in front of strangers isn’t nearly as terrifying as doing it in front of him. I go for another chip but then feel his hand on my wrist.

“Hey, no! What do you think you’re doing?” He sounds angry but he’s smiling at me.

“Getting a chip?” I ask like maybe this is a crime in Arizona.

“That’s the King chip! It’s the one with the most cheese! Look how beautiful it is! You don’t just claim King chip without discussing it first. What kind of animal are you?” he laughs.

“You don’t think I deserve King chip? I’m not King chip-worthy?” I like when he gets playful.

“I don’t know! It’s not something you rush into and decide on the fly.” He spreads his hands in front of his chest like this is a life changing matter.

“You’re silly,” I tell him. 

“I’ve got all the sills!” He laughs like it’s a real thing. 

“Fine. You take it. You earned it for that King chip-level coaching,” I suggest.

“I did do a great job.” He leans back and looks up for a minute as if thinking it over. He raises a finger and does some math calculations in the air then licks it and holds it up as if testing the wind. He cocks his head to the side as if double-checking his results.

“I will accept this honor,” he says finally. He reaches for the chip and picks it up, careful not to lose any of the golden ooze.

“You are a true hero,” I start to say but before I can close my mouth he shoves the chip in my face. The chip is limp from its heavy, wet cargo. It fold in half and smears cheese all over my lips and nose.

“I share this honor with my trusty sidekick!” Tank laughs as cheese drips down my chin.

I immediately grab another adequately cheesed chip and go to return the favor but he is too quick. He grabs my wrist and the chip falls onto his shirt. It lands a big glob of cheese right over his left nipple.

The war is on. He swipes a finger through the cheese and tries to swipe my cheek but I turn my head. My mouth lines up perfectly though and he makes it inside. I feel his cheese-coated finger against my tongue. I don’t know why but my lips closed around him and I suck the golden dip from his digit.

He holds like that and our eyes lock. This food fight just got really gay and neither of us are sure what to do next. He takes his finger back and clears his throat but keeps his eyes on mine.

“Hey Tank,” a voice calls from beside us and we both turn our heads slowly as if remembering we are in public and people can see us.

“Hey Aaron,” Tank calls back feebly. This emo looking guy with cut-off jean shorts and a white tank top is staring at us from six feet away. He has bleached out hair with a streak of blue that matches his eyes. He smiles but it looks more like a smirk.

“Feeding nachos to your baseball buddy?” The kid asks, perfectly summing up what is happening here.

“Yup,” Tank swallows and nods as if this is perfectly normal.

“Cool. Can I get one?” he asks. Tank lifts the plastic tray with both hands towards Aaron.

He takes the chip, looking disappointed that Tank isn’t going to feed it to him.

“Um, Hayden, this is Aaron from my school. He lives in that peach house right there! Aaron, Hayden, my friend.” Tank introduces us while I scramble to wipe my face with a napkin.

“A friend who sucks cheese off your fingers?” Aaron flares a bit of skepticism at us.

“Just goofing around. Where’s Braxton?” Tank asks then explains “that’s Aaron’s boyfriend.”

“We’re on a break. Are you two…?” Aaron turns his head like there’s some interesting gossip here.

“Nope. Not at all. Nope nope.” I interject and slide away from Tank.

“Just friends,” Tank adds with an icing of hurt. “Hayden’s just here for the summer. Our moms are best friends.”

“Cool. Laters,” he says. He takes another chip then walks off towards the restrooms.

Aaron takes the energy with him and Tank and I just kind of look at each other not sure what to say. I’d tried to wipe all the cheese off my face, but I can feel that I missed some and it’s hardening now and this isn’t fun anymore and I need to… I stand up.

“Please,” Tank says weakly because he knows exactly what I’m thinking.

“I can’t say no to you. I really can’t,” I whisper with sadness. He nods.

Aaron’s in the restroom when I go in to wash my face. He zips his pants and joins me at the sinks.

“You guys were getting pretty heavy out there.” Aaron notes this like he’s only slightly interested. I splash water on my face but don’t look at him.

“Tank’s not into guys,” I tell him.

“And you?” He catches my eye while I’m scrubbing cheese out of my right nostril. His eyes bore into me like he has a strong fetish for nose cheese.

“I’m only into guys,” I say. This makes him raise up like he wants to show off his chiseled thin frame.

“Me too. Wanna chill sometime?” Aaron puts his hand on my arm. I laugh and wonder what tank would think about this.

“Sure.” I tell him this but then immediately leave the restroom before any information could be exchanged.

Tank is back where I left him only I freeze when I get closer because he’s squatting beside the lake with his shirt off. He has his back to me, that pale toned skin stares me down. He has his t-shirt in his hands and is using the lake water to scrub the cheese off. His squat position forces down the back waistband of his white shorts and I can see the very top of his plumbers crack. But he’s not a plumber, it is most definitely something I want to see more of.

I watch the muscles in his back work as he scrubs the shirt clean. He stands to lay it out to dry on a rock and then turns to check for me. He stops and gives me this look like I’ve caught him doing something. Then he notices the big, goofy grin across my lips and he smiles back at me.

His chest is not what I expected. Even with the compression shirt showing his outline, it doesn’t capture the perfection that is Tank. His skin is milky white and his pecs are still pretty flat but the hint of definition shows a boy who swings that bat pretty regularly. His abs are etched, not bulging, but toned and cut with good definition.

“Hey!” He calls. He realizes I’m appraising him and he blushes, looks down and then nods his head towards the shirt to tell me this nudity is pure necessity. He’s not used to being looked at like that and he shifts uncomfortably. He has a big adam’s apple and it moves way up then down again like he’s swallowing something unpleasant.

“You want to hit some more?” I ask as I walk towards him.

“Nah. Let’s do something indoors,” he says. He collects our trash and I grab his bag of baseball gear. He tosses his shirt over his shoulder. We head back to his car. It’s over 100 degrees by now. He opens the car doors and a heat ghost flies out of it.

He puts his shirt back on before we get in. The wet spot is nearly dry and the cheese stain is gone. We ride in silence until I finally announce “So Aaron wants to hang out with me!”

“What? No! Dude not Aaron. Just no! He goes hard after any guy who looks at him. You are so much better than that… I mean he’s cute. I can’t tell you what to do I guess…” Tank looks at me with frustration.

“Just thought it was funny. I’m not into him…He’s not your friend, is he? He sure didn’t act like it.” I shouldn’t have said anything about Aaron. It was meant to break the silence, but it ends up making my stomach feel gross. I didn’t want to upset him. It doesn’t feel good.

“You don’t have to date me, but… “ He isn’t sure how to finish that sentence.

“Don’t date anyone else?” I laugh.

“Is that too much to ask?” He looks at me sheepishly. That smile slays me.

“Not at all… And for the record you’re the only guy I like… the only one I’ve ever felt like this before.” I admit too much. It relieves the ache in my stomach but builds a separate tension in my chest. He reaches over and puts his hand on mine. He squeezes it.

I don’t understand how he makes me feel. Tank is smaller than me, shorter than me, just a few weeks older than me. He makes me feel small though. Maybe small isn’t the right word. I feel vulnerable, like I can open up my insides and he is going to protect them. The rules are different with him.

“Me too. I always knew I liked guys, but not this much… I’ve never felt like I do with you. Why can’t we just go for it?” Tank asks like it is a completely plausible and well-thought scenario.

“Sure. Hey Mr. and Mrs. Kempton! I am totally into your good mormon boy. You’re cool with that, right? Oh… you aren’t cool with that? And my mom and I can’t live in your church housing anymore? We have to sleep in our car and go to a shelter? Oh ok, thanks!” I lay things out for him.

“They wouldn’t do that! They’re nice people. They wouldn’t just kick you out like that,” Tank defends but he doesn’t sound so sure.

“Maybe not, but I don’t want to find out. Your parents volunteered when my mom was out of options. They stepped in and gave us a place to live and groceries and the job at the thrift store. You really think it’s cool if I move in on their perfect Christian son and ruin him?” I ask.

“I’m not perfect… and this isn’t wrong. This doesn’t feel wrong at all,” he says and squeezes my hand.

He pulls off the road and down the back alley behind a shopping center. It’s fresh new pavement sandwiched between the back of an AJ’s market and a white stucco wall. It’s back where they keep the dumpsters and accept deliveries. He pulls under the shade of a big tree and puts the car in park.

“What are we doing?” I ask.

“I don’t know. I’ve never felt this confused. I’ve never felt this good either.” Tank leans over the center console and I wrap my arms around him. He nuzzles his sharp nose into my shoulder and I inhale the sweat and hint of nacho cheese on his cheek. He slides his arms around my chest and I squeeze him tight.

“Is it this hard for everyone?” Tank’s voice cracks like he’s fighting tears.

“I hope not!” I laugh. Tank buries his face in my shoulder and he feels so good in my arms. I just want to take him away from here. If we were back in California and my parents were ok, it would be perfectly fine. I’d bring him home and they’d welcome him and make a safe place for us where he wouldn’t have to worry about his parents finding out.

But we aren’t in California. We’re in Arizona and we need to figure out how we’re going to survive this.

I want Tank.

Tank wants me.

No one wants that for either of us.

Chapter 5- Tank Me a Higher Love

-------------------------------

I dig my guitar from the back of my closet. I didn’t think much when I tossed it back here that night we moved our things into the shelter. It was just another artifact of a life we’d never have back, not to the level we used to.

I’d named her Lucy because my dad insisted she needed a name when he gave her to me. Charlie Brown Christmas was playing and Lucy happened to be the one on the screen so that became her name.

I spend fifteen minutes tuning her up. She’s not an instrument that sits well. I go through some of the classic stuff I always play for my parents.

Years ago I’d found a mix CD my dad made for my mom back when they were going out. It was full of cheesy love tunes and he’d written “Ali Needs Lisa” in red marker with a heart around it.

I’d learned the first five songs on it without telling them and then I played through them for their anniversary party last year. They’d rented a restaurant in Newport harbor and all their friends were there. It was just a few months before everything went to awful, before the lights went out.

I still remember that smile on my dad’s face. It always ties back to my mom. When I do things that make her happy he amplifies it. When I do things that make her sad it destroys him. Her approval matters most to him and mine to her and his to me. It’s just all a weird triangle with one stake now missing and the other two trying to hold down the tarp. Flap, flap, flap.

I’m not playing any of those songs. They’re too old for this crowd and that was another time. I need something fresh.

I open up my youtube and navigate to my friend Lily’s page. She’s back in Irvine and I haven’t kept up with any of my friends. Ignored messages turned into no messages shortly after we crossed the Arizona line.

Lily always has the bops. She has a great ear for music and is truly gifted on the cello. Her playlist has stuff that’s already played out on the radio, but then I come across a new one.

It’s a Kygo remix of an old song from my parents’ generation, but it’s done so soulfully. I do a search and see the artist who made it famous died a few years back. She’s gone and new artists are pilfering through her remains.

I play the song again and now there’s a layer of finality and sadness. I find a few different covers and versions, each with their own twist. The dance beats versions bring out the passion of someone on a mission with unwavering resolve, and the slow acoustic versions bring out the poetry of the lyrics and sadness that they’ll never find the love they seek. It’s perfect.

I go down the youtube rabbit hole and hear every version I can find before I start to work it out on my own guitar. I adjust the key and add my own touches, but it’s doable and works for my voice. I look up a few mormon songs and pick one that is simple enough. It’s a kid’s song about a stream and how every little thing we do can help others. It’s happy and light enough plus there are hundreds of versions so it must be a popular childhood song.

I take a break before lunch. Mom is at another interview and I’d shrugged off Tank’s invitations to hang. I decide to unpack some of the boxes. We won’t be here long, but I know it’ll cheer mom up if she sees I put out some of the family photos.

Something about spending the morning with my guitar has cleared my head. The therapist my mom took me to had said doing normal routine things would help me work through this. It works and I lose track of time setting up things.

+++

My mom bursts through the door as I’m finishing folding up a box and putting it away in the closet for the next move. She is beaming like she has something to tell me.

“Sit down! No, stay standing. I need a hug!” She attacks me at full mom strength and pulls me against her. She wraps her arms around me and puts her head on my shoulder. She smells like the chewy mints she buys in bulk.

“I did it, Hayd! We did it. I wasn’t going to do it but then you were so strong and I thought it was time to just be bold and I did it!” She rambles on at full speed and I am lost but I’m guessing her interview went well.

“You got a job?” I offer.

“No! I got a career! I went in there and I was so scared but then it just clicked and I could see the vision they wanted and I laid it out for them and they loved it. LOVED it, Hayd! They want me right away. And get this! They are looking to expand in SoCal and I told them all about the Orange County market. I mean who knows it better than I do? And it was just perfect!” She pulls back and looks at me with a beam of pride I haven’t seen in her before.

“Really? We can go home?” I ask and feel the excitement rise up in my chest then slide back down when I think of leaving Tank.

“Maybe not for a few months… a year at most. It’s all so preliminary, but they offered me the job ON THE SPOT! They want me next week! We’ll get a nice apartment and we can get our furniture moved here from the storage place back home. Oh isn’t it just incredible?” She is delirious with excitement.

She doesn’t let me answer. “We are going out tonight! Dinner, maybe a movie? What about go-karts? You could invite Talmadge! Wouldn’t that be wonderful?”

“Better not. Trying to cool things, remember?” I ask. Her smile wavers.

“Screw that! You like him. Let them kick us out. I’d rather have my son happy. Call him!” My mom kind of forgets her adult sensibilities when she’s this happy. I remind her that it wouldn’t just be us that fell out of the Kemptons’ good graces if this blew up. Tank could end up abandoned or worse.

“Well not everyone has an awesome mom who loves you just as you are,” she beams.

We decide to forgo the fancy dinner and instead get soft pretzels at the mall and buy ourselves one new pair of shoes each. I got black vans and she got some pointy high heels that will have my dad making jokes he thinks I’m not old enough to understand yet.

She grabbed all the shoe coupons that came in the mail this week. People leave the ads in a pile in our mail area. My mom will dig when it comes to shoes.

+++

The next morning I wake up to see missed texts from Tank. I’d ignored my phone last night. I had practiced a tight set of three songs I would do for the performance tonight. I had the classic one, the mormon one, and a slow version of Ed Sheeran’s Castle on the Hill which my voice can just barely pull off when he goes too high, but they should like it.

I put in a few hours at the thrift store. Tank is doing volunteer work with his church and then helping his mom set up for the art night at the teen center. He texts that he’ll pick me up at 5 and he can’t wait to see what I came up with. It makes my stomach twist thinking about whether he’ll like this. Honestly, everyone else can ignore me so long as he thinks it’s good.

+++

He shows up at my front door at 5 on the dot. He’s dressed up like a proper, wholesome boy in pressed khakis and a button up short-sleeved white shirt with a pattern of tiny palm trees. I have a blue v-neck shirt with tight jeans and my new vans.

I have my left arm spread to open the door and Tank nuzzles in there for a hug. His lips meet my neck and I feel a shiver through me. I’m not sure he meant to do that. It felt like a mini kiss. I peer past him and see his mom sitting in her SUV but looking down at her phone.

I pull back from him. How can he be so careless in touching me when there is no way he can ever come out to his family? It makes me angry for just a moment. Sometimes he has no sense. I pull away from him and nod towards his mom.

“Guys can touch each other and hug” he laughs and looks at me like I’m weird.

“I don’t want anything to happen to you,” I tell him and look at him with pleading eyes. He stares back with a confused smirk.

“There isn’t some detective following me looking for clues about us! My parents wouldn’t even suspect it. You can chill, ok?” he laughs like I am the one being ridiculous.

“I don’t know the rules of this. I never had to do that with my parents,” I say and his smile fades. 

“My parents don’t ask me if I’m straight every night before bed. I mean it’s not like they suspect anything. I’m not like Aaron or anything. I don’t go around with rainbows and hitting on every guy,” Tank references the guy from the baseball park. It doesn’t sit right with me. Sure Aaron is out and obvious, but he’s also free to be himself.

“I think Aaron is brave,” I tell Tank and his face contorts like he knows he said something offensive. “Maybe he takes crap for it. That has to be hard in a place like this. He pays the price to be himself. He’s free.”

“Yeah, Aaron’s really great. Super free…” Tank sounds less than authentic and I realize I don’t want to pick a fight right now. Whatever he thinks of Aaron isn’t mine to argue with. I also just insulted Arizona and I’m quickly learning that they don’t like that when it comes from a Californian.

“Let’s get going?” I ask and Tank nods, happy for the change of topic. I call for my mom and she comes out with one earring in and the other in her hand. She looks nice in a summery dress like we’re going down the coast instead of out into the 100 plus heat.

The teen center is attached to a small church with a big steeple. All of the LDS churches in the valley looked identical. This one is no exception. It’s just a few minutes from us. Mom sits in the front. I sit with Tank in the back as his mom drives us.

“This is where you go to church?” I ask as we pull into the parking lot.

“No, ours is smaller, but we come together here for multi-stake events… Our ward is closer to the house. We could come to this one. They have the teen center since it’s kind of central to a lot of wards,” Tank explains.

“They have dances here! It’s so cute! He’s too nervous to ask a girl to dance so he usually just stands with his friends and they dance,” Tank’s mom begins and I see his cheeks blush. Brutal mom jabs!

“Oh Hayden did that at his last school dance. Luckily they had cameras set up so parents could watch online!” My mom laughs and I want to yell at her. My school was wired so parents could peek in on classes and events like that. It was hella weird!

“Well parents are allowed at the events here. We like to be involved here with what the kids are up to,” Tank’s mom says with more than a hint of smugness. Mom doesn’t react.

“Do a lot of people come to these things?” I ask and start to fidget with the strap of my case.

“Don’t be nervous,” Tank senses the anxiety in my voice and reaches over to squeeze my hand. The guitar case is between us and sticking up from the floor so it covers where our hands meet. He pushes his fingers between mine and my tension melts to a happy buzz.

“I’m fine. As long as you’re here, things are good,” I tell him. I really want to lean over and kiss his cheek. I wish I could, but his mom decides she needs to back into the parking space so she turns directly around, smiles at us and then proceeds to back in. Her eyes make me feel guilty and I duck to the side away from Tank.

+++

The teen center is set up like a coffee shop with no barista or whatever non-starbucks places call it. There are high tables and chairs, a few comfy couches, and bright green paint on the wall because young people can’t get enough cheery neon. I see the sign-up sheet has been written in chalk on a big sandwich board and fourth on the list says “Hayden Davis Sings.” It’s right underneath “Emma Benson Poetry.” That’s the sad girl Tank warns me about. She’s my warm-up act.

I take my guitar into a side room to do a little warm-up. Tank follows me and closes the door then uses it as an opportunity to hug me. He kisses my cheek rubs his nose against mine.

“I missed you. I haven’t seen you since yesterday and I feel like things are kinda weird, right?” He asks me hoping I’ll tell him he’s crazy and kiss him passionately.

“I just need to find a way to slow this down. Don’t you even care about your mom finding out?” I ask. It seems like he doesn’t.

“Oh it would kill them, but they totally won’t. My mom thinks we’re BFFs like she was with your mom when they were younger. She actually told me she’s happy I finally have a good friend. And you’re a total dude. You aren’t obvious at all! You act like a normal guy so it’s fine…” Tank grins like this is good news. I feel that gnaw in my stomach again.

I put my hand on his cheek and he blushes. He’s so gorgeous. His face has these delicate features as if he was crafted by an accomplished artist. Those sea green eyes twinkle at me and he turns his face to kiss my palm. I feel the electricity race through my veins. He pulls my strings like a marionette and I give into him.

“You’re so perfect,” he says and my heart swoons. He raises up so his lips can meet mine. We kiss and his warmth just radiates to every part of me. I rest on the wall and set my guitar down then fumble for him with desperate hands. My hands go for his hips and then slide up his back. I pull him against me until his heartbeat pounds on my chest. He’s on his toes, just a bit too short but I make it work. For him, I make it work.

We wrestle silently for a minute. He presses me back against the wall and I really want to lift him up. He fits so perfectly on my chest and makes my knees go weak. Our lips lock and I can taste his gum. He slides it to me and I laugh then give it a chew before sending it back. Our little bit of trident has quite the adventure.

“Hayden?” my mom’s voice calls from behind the door, and Tank pushes off of me like a champion swimmer. He dives for the couch and grabs a magazine. I grab my guitar and sit next to him.

“Yeah! Warming up!” I call. She opens the door and walks in with his mom. Tank looks up from his magazine and I start to strum.

“Well make sure you come in soon, dear. They’re about to start and it’s rude to not watch the acts when you’re performing.” Tank’s mom admonishes me.

“Yes ma’am. I will. I just want to get this right,” I say. The ma’am makes her smile.

She leaves, but my mom lingers. She can sense the mood in the room. She knows me too well.

“Why don’t I take you two out somewhere after this? Somewhere you can be you?” She asks. Tank blushes heavily and I can sense the panic in his voice. I think to myself ‘Oh great NOW he decides to care about hiding?’

“Sure, mom. I’ll be out soon,” I tell her. She nods happily and leaves us alone.

Tank and I go out just as the first guy is getting started. He has a dance to a really overplayed Bruno Mars song, but everyone hoots and claps like it’s good. He must be popular. Popular guys can get away with sucking on stage. People eat it up. It doesn’t hurt that he is built like a football god and is probably nearly 18. The mostly young and female crowd eyes him like a mormon stripper.

Dane Hansen follows him with a moving speech from a Shakespeare play I have never heard of. My tenth grade lit teacher would be pissed at me for not remembering it. Dane does a good job, but it goes over their heads. He finishes and they clap sympathetically. That’s when I get really nervous because Emma is up next with her sad girl poem and who knows how much sadness she can stretch out because I really need more time to get ready for this.

It turns out that Emma is not feeling super sad these days because she read through an ode to a tree that seems to race by faster than I had anticipated. Before I can think, she is bowing for mild applause and Tank is pushing on my arm.

I swallow hard when they call my name. I look around hoping another Hayden Davis will show up. I look at the doorway thinking the better Hayden Davis -played by Noah Centineo- will walk in and raise his hand to me as if to say, “I got this.” But Noah/Hayden fails to materialize and Tank is pushing, shoving me out of my seat.

“Go, babe,” he whispers. Calling me babe was not fair. It throws me off and before I know it I am walking up to the stage with Lucy (my guitar because guitars need names) in hand.

I climb the three steps to my death stage and then Dane, the shakespearean speaker pushes a stool up next to the microphone for me. I thank him and he gives me a bro nod that tosses his beautiful brown locks away from his eyes.

I open with the little stream song. They all recognize it instantly and soon I don’t even have to sing because they are all singing it for me. This is great! They love it and I even do the chorus one more time to milk their love. They clap wildly and I get an approving nod from Tank’s mom. It is an appropriate song and seems to heave a sigh of relief that I didn’t come up here with some hardcore LA gangster rap.

My second song is Ed Sheeran’s Castle on the Hill and it isn’t until I sing it that I think of the irony of moving on from everything you know and leaving it behind. I choke up a little when I think about all that I left in California and how good it is to know Tank and be the one he shines his light on… because it feels so damn good when he shines his light on me.

The whole time I do that song I keep my eyes down and get lost in my thoughts. Even though they’re singing along with me, I tune them out and focus. I don’t look up until I finish and they’re clapping for me. I don’t look at Tank. He’ll throw me off and right now I am in the zone.

I take a breath before the last song. I look around at everyone there and they’re watching me, waiting for what’s next. It’s so intense. I hate being at the center of things and this feels like they are about to rush the stage and either hoist me on their shoulders or claw me to death. I can’t tell which. I look over at Tank and he has this wide dopey grin on his face and his eyes are staring me down with more intensity than he had during batting practice. I feel myself crush under the weight of it. I shake my head and tear my eyes from him. I have to focus here.

I did a different arrangement of this song. The verses are kind of long so I chopped each in half and put in a little rift of notes between them. It gives each verse a little false hook like people are expecting the chorus to rush in but it doesn’t.

“Think about it, there must be higher love

Down in the heart or hidden in the stars above

Without it, life is wasted time

Look inside your heart, I’ll look inside mine.“

I look at Tank and strum for a few beats. He’s leaning forward;  on the edge of his chair with his legs spread and his elbows on his knees. The little music break makes his right leg shake.

“Things look so bad everywhere

In this whole world, what is fair?

We walk blind and we try to see

Falling behind in what could be.“

Tank looks sad, like he’s really feeling the lyrics. I strum for a few seconds then break into the chorus in a low voice that’s soft and slow.

“Bring me a higher love

Where’s that higher love I keep thinking of?“

The real song repeats the first line three times, but I just sing it once then sing the question three times. Tank’s face falls. He keeps staring at me, but I can see the tears forming. He knows this one is for him just as plainly as if I had announced it.

“Worlds are turning and we’re just hanging on

Facing our fear and standing out there alone

A yearning, and it’s real to me

There must be someone who’s feeling for me… Bring me a higher love.“

Tears roll down his angelic pink cheeks. He swipes at them with the back of his hand and I keep repeating the chorus. Each time it pushes another tear out of him. I want so badly to run to him and hold him.

“Bring me a higher love

Where’s that higher love I keep thinking of?“

I know it’s not fair. I know how much this has to suck for him too. I get lost in my own singing and just think about Tank and me being back home in California. I’d take him to the Balboa pier and we’d walk way out to the end of it. I’d turn him to watch the waves and hold him from behind. The cold sea air would hit our face and mix with the blazing sun in that way that makes every inch of your shell feel so alive. I’d nuzzle into the back of his neck and taste his sweet skin.

“Where’s that higher love.

I keep.

Thinking of.“

I strum out for a good 20 seconds without any lyrics left. I stare down at my shoes, the new Vans my mom bought me last night.

I finish and maybe they’re clapping. I’m not sure. I’m in my head. I get up with my guitar and do a little bow then walk off. I go all the way back to the room where I’d warmed up. I take a deep breath and exhale slowly then set my guitar near the case.

I sit down on the couch, put my head between my knees, and a gallon of tears pour out. I’m not even sure why I’m crying. Maybe it’s my dad or Arizona or poverty or the thrift store or Aaron’s gayness or Tank’s off-limits love or the loss of my friends or… I just let it flow.

I feel someone in front of me. The person kneels down on both knees and puts their hands on my back. I feel lips on the back of my hair. Maybe it’s mom. Maybe it’s Tank. I don’t know. Someone cares enough to check on me and it just makes me cry harder. I broke the dam inside me out there.

Music always does it to me. You put your soul into your art and sharing it frees things you never even realized you had inside you.

I get back to myself and finally raise my head. My mom is there, but she’s off to the side guarding the closed door. It’s Tank who is knelt down in front of me. He’s red-eyed too and he smiles when I look at him.

“That was so beautiful, Hayden. So beautiful. Everyone fell in love with you so hard and I just wanted to grab you and run because you are so beautiful and so perfect and that was amazing!” He shakes his head in disbelief.

“Yeah?” I answer because it’s the only word left in my brain right now.

“I’ll be your love, ok? I don’t care anymore. Whatever you want. I need this,” he says. I know he’s high from the music, but it sounds like everything I’ve ever wanted to hear.

I nod my head, laugh, and kiss him.

Tank’s that higher love. I keep. Thinking of.

----------------------------*

[There should be a GIF or video here. Update the app now to see it.]

Chapter 6- Meet The Parents

Night out in Phoenix: 

“I took your dad here to tell him I was pregnant with you!” Mom laughs as she pulls off of the ten freeway. It’s dark out and just after the art night with Tank and his mom. I don’t know why, but Tank’s mom agreed to let my mom take him into Phoenix for the night.

“It’s not too far from the airport and I drove my car. I figured that if he was going to freak out on me and run home to KSA then he could hop a bus to the airport from here,” she laughs.

“Mom! You thought he was going to run? You never told me that!” I look at the rearview mirror to catch her eyes as she’s driving.

“What’s KSA?” Tank asks. He’s snuggled into my side in the back seat. I keep my arm around him and he rests his head against my neck.

“Kingdom of Saudi Arabia,” mom answers. “He was a study abroad student here in Tempe. He was just finishing his business degree when little Hayden decided to start growing in me.”

“And did he freak?” Tank asks. He pokes his head up and my body groans at feeling him pull away. He’s interested in this story.

“He did not. He was embarrassingly happy! It was right around Halloween and he was wearing a soccer costume that made his ass look exceptionally…” mom starts getting gross.

“MOM!” I yell again and she laughs as she zips up a wide boulevard lined with neon signs.

“Anyways. He didn’t believe me at first. He thought it was a prank since we were kind of using protection, but not always. There’s a lesson here, kids. You have to use it every time.” She pauses like she’s waiting for me to yell at her again for getting gross. I don’t.

“Finally I showed him the print out from the clinic. I reminded him that we were definitely not ready to be parents, or even adults! But I’ll never forget the look he got. He grabbed the paper from me and shook his head and got the widest, goofiest grin. He whispered ‘I’m going to be a baba.’ I nodded at him and he just had this look of pure joy. He leaned down and kissed my stomach and everything changed after that. He said, ‘I will be a man my baby can be proud of.’ And he was.” She sounds wistful.

“It was like he grew up right then and there. He started making plans. He’d never done that before. He went from a playful, careless boy to a real man. He spent the next week contacting the companies he’d targeted and by graduation day we were loading up the car and heading to California.” She turns into the parking lot of Red Bird coffee bar as she finishes the story.

“Right there on the patio.” She points to their side patio with a covered pergola. We see a group of 20 somethings sipping drinks under a string of lights. “That’s where your dad became a man.”

Red Bird is one of those indoor/outdoor places and it’s still 100 degrees outside but with a nice wind that makes it feel bearable. Inside it’s a nice cafe with big couches and high top tables. There’s a bar with coffee accoutrement at the front and beer taps lining the wall behind it. Above them is a row of wines and I spot mom’s favorite near the center.

Mom orders herself a glass of white wine and italian sodas for us. I like strawberry and Tank tries the caramel. There’s music playing over the speakers. It’s that happy indie stuff; an acoustic party mix. There’s two flat screens over the bar. One is showing the diamondbacks game and Tank stares up at it with intensity as the lady behind the counter is making our drinks.

“You two enjoy yourselves. We have about an hour or so until Sybil starts texting me to bring him home!” she laughs. She settles into one side of a couch. She slips off her shoes and tucks her legs under her. This could be any thursday night back home. Mom on the couch with a glass of wine browsing latest celebrity gossip on her phone. Usually she did that while dad and I played video games. It was our quality time.

“Your mom is so cool,” Tank says as we wander off to find a seat. “I could never imagine my parents taking me to a hipster coffee place in Arcadia to just hang out! Everywhere we go has to have a purpose.”

“She’s not so bad. What about there?” I point to a small opening on the covered patio about ten feet from my mom. It’s two chairs with a small side table between them. He nods and follows me. We set out drinks down and he pulls his chair closer to mine. We sit and his right leg touches my left one. He reaches over cautiously and puts his hand on my knee.

“Your music was so lit. I didn’t know you could sing like that. It had so much feeling behind it. It made me so… hard.” He stops himself and blushes then takes a sip of his drink.

“Glad I didn’t suck,” I laugh.

“You most definitely didn’t suck. You were amazing. I kept thinking my boyfriend is freaking awesome!” he smiles like he didn’t just drop the word boyfriend out there for me. “ I’m glad your mom recorded it so I can hear it again and again!“

“Ugh! She records everything! So annoying! Every moment of my childhood is on her facebook! She can’t help herself!” I look over and see mom on the couch with her wine. She looks happy.

“At least you know she loves you! Try being in the middle of six kids. My mom mislabels me in pictures quite often. I get called Gideon 50% of the time.” Tank smiles and those dimples echo across his cheeks and melt my heart like a death ray. I can’t imagine that. My parents never tried for any more kids. They told me I was all they needed.

“I guess we got both extremes… That dude over there is trying to crush on my mom! That’s so weird!” I laugh and point. Tank looks over to where a bearded blonde guy has just tried to sit on the couch next to her with his beer.

“He’s kinda cute. I like the scruff look. I think they call it lumbersexual. You know like a hipster guy who fakes being rugged? What are his chances?” Tank laughs.

It’s weird and I think back to last Christmas break when I had friends over and two of the guys called her a MILF. I’d played it off with a laugh, but they didn’t stop until I got pissed.

“Zero. She’s focused on getting my dad back,” I tell him. I watch as the guy tries to talk to her and she gives him that look of severe annoyance. I feel a protective growl in my chest.

“Should we rescue her?” Tank starts, but then something funny happens. The barista/bartender lady leans over the counter and notices what’s happening.

“Ma’am. Let me know if your boys need refills. They’re on the house, ok?” she calls. She points towards me and Tank sitting outside. The scruffy lumberjack follows her finger to where we’re sitting. Tank and I both glare at him and he shrinks back.

“My boys,” mom shrugs like she can’t help how crazy protective we are.

He nods, says “cool,” then slides away. Mom looks at us and gives a wink of appreciation then goes back to her wine time.

“I don’t think anyone has ever tried to pick up my mom,” Tank says like it’s funny.

“Your dad did!” I point out. Our parents’ sexuality is not what I want to discuss right now.

Tank nods then takes another sip of his soda and slides his chair closer again.

“So what are we going to do about this?” he finally says after a long pause.

I turn my head and raise an eyebrow to show I need more info to answer this question.

“This… us… I can’t just be friends with you. Everything inside me needs everything about you and it feels like you want this but you also don’t. I’m so confused. You’re everything, Hayden, everything.” Tank stops himself and takes a deep breath.

“It’s like the best thing ever happened at the worst time possible. You know? It’s like hey here’s everything you always wanted in the most perfect guy ever, but um there’s also a tornado coming to destroy it.” I explain.

“But we can take cover together. Can’t we? Tornados don’t last forever. We don’t really have those here. Can’t we ride it out together until it’s clear for us to come back out into the sunshine? You’re all I need. This doesn’t have to stop.” He slides his hand up my thigh and squeezes it. It’s not fair. He’s trying to weaken me.

“So we go undercover for awhile and then you go off to Utah for college and I’m back in California and what then? What’s the plan here, Tank?” I feel myself getting annoyed. It’s like the object of my desire is beckoning me closer. Then when I obey, I get a big hand smacking me in the head to tell me I can’t have it. No, Hayden! Bad Hayden!

“This is my first time with this. I don’t have the options you have. My parents would never take me to a cool place like this or let me wander off with a guy I was into. They wouldn’t let me wander anywhere if they knew I was into guys! I don’t have your choices. That means I don’t get to love you?” The last question seems to stick in his throat. He tries to swallow it then looks at me with eyes so sad they make my heart hurt.

“I’m sorry.” I don’t have better words. I lean towards him and scoot my chair to face his. His knees slide in between my thighs and I hold him. I realize I don’t understand what it’s like for him. We may have lost our life in California, but my parents are solid… sort of.

Holding Tank like that made me think about my dad and how crazy he was for my mom. I understood why he’d do illegal and unethical things to afford the life she’d wanted. My mom has expensive tastes and I suddenly understood why he couldn’t tell her no. I couldn’t tell Tank no either. Even though I couldn’t see a path forward where this would turn out well. I knew this was only going to lead to heartache. I couldn’t tell him no.

“It’s going to work out, Hayden. It has to,” he says into my shoulder. I kiss his hair and feel his warmth spread through me.

+++

Right as we walk out of Red Bird back to the car, my mom’s phone goes off. I knew it was dad because it’s the ringtone she only uses for him. It’s a weird chirpy noise. She hops into the car and turns it on so she can answer him through the speaker since she’d be driving.

“Hello, my sweet one,” dad’s voice sounds through the car stereo.

“Hi, Ali. I have the kids with me. We’re heading home from the coffee place where I told you I was having Hayden. Remember Red Bird? It looks so different. Arcadia used to be kinda hood. Now it’s definitely upscale.” My mom rambles on about the interior of course because that is her field.

“What kids? We have new one?” my father interrupts her. That is the one detail he picks up on.

“Oh, Hayden and his boy…. Well friend I guess,” she laughs.

“My little one has a boyfriend? How nice! He is good to my boy? He is there with you? Hello young man?” Dad calls out to the void.

“Uh… Hi Mr. Davis. My name is Tank, well Talmadge, but people call me Tank and yes! I am very good to him… I think,” He squeezes my hand while introducing himself.

“Mister Davis? No. I am the Ahmad half of Hayden. Like his last name Davis-Ahmad.” my father says. He knows I never use Ahmad.

“Oh. I didn’t know that. Sorry, Mr. Ahmad. I’m Tank, well Talmadge but everyone calls me Tank,” Tank does his best to impersonate my dad’s elongated vowel sounds in his last name. I usually just use my mom’s last name.

“Yeah, so he’s nice. He’s super cute. Hayden is smitten completely! They’re still new, but very cute together,” mom gushes.

“Mom!” I yell. “That’s embarrassing!”

“Right! So yes, we’re all together in the car ok? Now back to me! I have news! Big News!” Mom interjects. I want to whack her in the head. I haven’t exactly explained to Tank my current level of smit with him. Mom laid it out for him very clearly! I look over to see Tank smiling that dimple grin and then he kisses me on the cheek.

“Yes, my beauty, my love, my world. What has you so excited?” dad is delighted to have a conversation with us where I’m not yelling at him and mom is in super happy mode.

“I got the job! At Finko in Phoenix! I’ll be working out of their design center in Tempe. I’m going to help with their California launch! I laid out a redesign for them that they just loved! Oh my god, Ali. It was like destiny dream job! I’ll make the new stores less frumpy and less… Arizona. We’ll do bright lights and dark wood and posh and palms! That’s what I sold them on. Oh Ali. It is a dream!” Mom slows down for a red light.

“My wife will work? I am no happy to find this!” That’s all my dad says. I watch my mom smash her lips together in anger. She’s never had a real full time job. They’d never really discussed her having a career, at least not in front of me.

“Your wife has a family to support and thought her very progressive husband had left that misogynist Saudi shit behind.” Mom is not happy and once again we are in our normal routine of the screaming, angry phone call… Welcome to the family, Tank!

“Your husband is sending you money very soon. My family has agreed to help. I tell you to not worry for this. You know I provide for my family! I will have us back together very soon, my dear. I promise you this. There is no need to embark on job!” Dad tries to keep his voice sounding calm and collected which only makes it sound more ridiculous.

My parents don’t argue often. When my dad’s business investments started to unravel, things got tense between them. They were able to liquidate pretty much everything we owned and returned most of dad’s investors a big enough portion of what they’d put in. It helped them avoid jail time, but dad agreed to leave the country rather than be deported.

That’s when the fighting stopped. Realizing dad was going made all their disagreements irrelevant. I hadn’t heard them argue like this since then.

“I don’t want to discuss this right now, especially not in front of our child,” mom waves her hand towards me like dad could see. Tank squeezes my hand in support. I wish he wasn’t here for this. I’m sure his parents never argued like this. They seemed so perfect.

“My boy will know his father provide for what is his. A man will take care for his family! There will be no doubt that I provide for my child. He will have what he need and I post it soon to you!” Dad’s English skills go out the window as things heat up. My mom makes a loud sigh.

“And a mother works when her child has been abandoned by his father. You left us! I am the one who got us to Arizona and in a house. You just left us in California and now you don’t want me to make something of myself? You can’t be a caveman when you’re the one who lost our cave!” Mom spits this at him, and I know she’s gone too far. She is pissed.

“Mom, stop,” I tell her and put my hand on her shoulder. “Just stop.”

“She is right, little one. Your mother is right to be upset… I am trying, my love. I am humble myself to my family because you will always come first. I do the best that I can, my sweet love.” Dad sounds defeated. Mom sighs and gives me an awkward look like she’s sorry I’m here for this. She looks like she regrets her words, but I can tell they’ve been stewing for awhile.

“When you send us enough to live on then we can talk about this. Until then I am doing the best I can to hold things together. I don’t have time for your archaic thinking right now. I just need to provide for us and I’m kinda pissed you can’t be happy for me,” she says calmly.

“I understand. We will discuss this in private, yes? I love you both so much. It hurt to be away like this.” Dad waves the white flag.

Tank looks over at me and I stare back, not sure what to say. He squeezes my hand tighter and I wonder if his parents are like this. Are we the only screwed up family out here in the uniform peach stucco creamsicle suburbia?

Just ten minutes ago we were talking at Red Bird about how progressive my parents are. Now my dad pops in to remind us that he’s a caveman who doesn’t want his wife working. Also, my mom can be pretty cutting when the mood arises. It’s not the best intro to my family, but here we are!

Mom heads back to Mesa and the night grows quiet, the conversation lighter.

They go back to more pleasant topics. The fight is forgotten and I even respond “you too” when dad says he loves me. I can hear in his voice now that this is affecting him too. He stops trying to pretend he’s just on a happy visit back home to his family.

He tells me he got the video my mom posted and he’s proud of my performance. He says he wishes he could be there to see it in person. I promise to play for him next time we facetime. He tells me again how proud he is of me.

+++

Chapter 7- Tank Me To Church

“Fine, but if you grow up to be a conservative, so help me god I will never forgive myself!” That was mom’s final argument against me going to church with Tank on Sunday. She was dead set against it and worried they’d “mormon” me, but she knew I was going to go anyways.

Sunday morning, Tank shows up in his Camry with his older brother Gideon in the passenger seat. They are both wearing matching white dress shirts and simple blue ties with the letter K embroidered in cursive script near the bottom tip. He explains that his mom made one for each of the boys and since it’s Father’s day weekend they were all wearing them.

“I think we have an extra if you want one,” Gideon jokes. “Or you can wear mine! Really! Helping a guest fit in would be a great excuse!”

“I think your mom might object to that,” I laugh.

“So this is your first time going to a mormon church?” Gideon asks as Tank pulls away from the curb. I look at Tank who is sitting directly in front of me. His eyes catch mine in the rearview mirror and he smiles to reassure me that this is all going to go well.

“First time in any church. Full on pagan here!” I joke but neither of them laugh.

“Seriously? You’ve never been to church? Like Ever?” Gideon looks back at me with shock.

“Well we have been inside some before. My parents took me to an art lecture at Lady of the Angels cathedral once in LA… Oh and my dad took me to a Masjid in Irvine, but that’s muslim so I guess it doesn’t count?” I don’t know the rules here. My dad is muslim but a very lazy one. My mom… well I don’t know. She says she grew up Christian, but never really brings it up.

“A Mass-JEED?” Gideon looks at me like I’m speaking Russian.

“It’s like muslim church. It was in Arabic and I don’t speak much of it, just a few words.” I probably should have just kept my mouth shut. Muslim and Arizona are not two things that normally bring good thoughts.

“There’s a big mosque in Tempe!” Tank volunteers an effort to save me.

“There’s a lot of crazy things in Tempe,” Gideon says. “Oh I mean, not crazy. Just… sorry. That was rude. Anyways, this is pretty normal as churches go. Oh and it’s only two hours now. It used to be over three but they just redid it this year.”

“Do I have to talk? Are they going to ask me questions or make me go up front and say something about myself?” I literally have no idea what to expect. I’ve seen church on tv. They usually sing, then the preacher does his thing and they get a snack at the end.

“No. It’s pretty passive. Plus you’ll be in the middle of the Kempton brood. There’s 8 of us so you’ll never be alone! We’ll fend off the hungry brethren.” Gideon laughs. He laughs a lot.

We pull up to a nearly empty parking lot. It’s 8:30 on a Sunday morning and the sun is already blazing overhead. We get out and I remember how tall Gideon is. He has these broad shoulders and gentle features and an easy laugh like he’s never faced a single adversity in his life.

I wonder if Tank will grow to be as tall as his brother. My dad is just two inches above me and I’m quickly narrowing that distance, but Gideon seems about eight inches over Tank and they’re only a few years apart.

I get out of the car and Tank reaches for me like he’s going to take my hand. I reach back but then realize where we are. Tank clears his throat awkwardly and dives around me. He leans into the backseat I’ve just vacated to grab some kind of bookcase off the seat.

“Just… um… needed my bible stuff,” he says as he comes back out. He puts his hand on my arm and stops me for a second as Gideon walks towards the church. He puts his hand on my lower back and rubs it cautiously.

“Thanks for coming. It really means a lot to us… to me. Mom was so happy I asked you. She is too afraid to invite your mom.” Tank takes a deep breath and offers me that winning smile.

“Yeah, no. This is important to you so I wanted to learn about it. Don’t worry. I’ll be full on straight bro today! No homo stuff,” I joke but Tank looks at me with sadness.

“Just be yourself, Hayden. It’s not like you’re obvious,” he says with such seriousness that it strikes a blow in me. I think about Aaron. It’s been bugging me the last few days. I might not be a super glitter guy, but I like guys like that and I hate to see his attitude towards them. I want to discuss it with him, but once again it is not the right time for that conversation. It’s something I need to remember to bring up though.

We go inside and Gideon is setting up stuff at the front. Mr. Kempton is looking over some notes and Mrs. Kempton is talking with some other ladies. She lights up when she sees me come in and waves us over.

“This is Hayden, Talmadge’s new best friend. Isn’t he adorable? You remember Lisa Davis from high school? This is her boy. They just moved back from California!” Mrs. Kempton bubbles over with happiness as I shake the ladies’ hands.

“He’s very handsome. Did you father go to Superstition too? What’s his name?” One of them asks in that fawning way moms have when appraising other people’s children.

“No ma’am. He’s Middle Eastern. He just came here for ASU,” I tell her and she raises an eyebrow but then quickly recovers with a smile. I get peppered with more questions and look around for help. These are the hungry brethren Gideon warned me about.

Tank swoops in to rescue me then. He asks if I’ll help him set up chairs for the priesthood class. He says it is a class for youth after the service but this one is divided into boys in one room and girls in another.

We get into the room and the chairs are already arranged around tables. I look back at him but he’s closing the door with a serial killer grin. He leans back against the door and pulls me towards him. Our lips meet and I’m suddenly in on the joke.

His hands slide around my back and I reach down to slide mine around his waist. We tangle up against the closed door and he feels so good in my arms. I can feel his heartbeat against my chest and his lips, so soft and warm give in to mine. I slide my tongue past his lips and then I can feel my knees go weak and my pants poke against his stomach.

“You’re so beyond cute,” he says to me when I pull off his lips.

“We shouldn’t be doing this here!” I tell him and look around at the empty room. There are windows but all the shades are closed against the piping hot Arizona summer.

“It’s ok. I know every inch of this building and no one will be in here until after sacrament. I grew up in this building! I know the best hiding places! Trust me,” Tank bites his lip then tries to bite mine as we get back out our makeout session.

“It just feels weird. I mean your whole family is here and your mom is being so nice to me.” I say this as Tank nibbles down my neck and slides his hands down to my bottom. I’m way too excited for being in a church and this starts to feel like a Lady Gaga video.

“Of course she’s nice. You’re both nice people and my family likes you a lot. I like you a lot too and this feels so right,” he says. He’s cupping my butt and squeezing it and I’m poking against him at full mast.

“C’mon, Tank.” I push him back. He looks up at me with frustration then a smile crosses his lips.

“You’re so cute. Look how nervous you are. C’mon Hayden. We don’t get much time in private. I just want to feel you. I can’t help myself.” He looks at me with wild eyes. He lets go of my bottom though and puts a hand up to my cheek. He turns my head so our eyes meet.

“I just don’t want to screw this up. Ok? I don’t want to mess things up for you,” I confess.

“I know, Hayden. And I appreciate that. I guess I kinda made a big deal about it at the coffee place, but I’m careful. Ok? You just be you… Hot, sexy, hunky monkey Hayden,” He rubs his nose against mine and I feel a flutter in my stomach. He backs away but then comes back for one last kiss. We do a few jumping jacks to calm ourselves and then head back to the main room.

+++

The service is ok. It’s not very exciting, but sitting between him and his dad has me on my best behavior. His mom is on the other side of his dad and Gideon and Brigham and his younger siblings are on the other side of Tank. I am literally in a Kempton sandwich and it feels nice.

One of the speakers does a salute to Father’s Day and Mr. Kempton stands up with the other dads. I can’t imagine my dad in this place. He’d definitely like standing and getting cheers though. Dad loves attention.

The Kemptons have these odd, big-family church routines like the younger siblings coloring on paper and his mom passing down a new pack of gum and the way she can glare at them silently to silence them when they get too noisy. It’s all these things I missed out on being from a small family. I soak it all in. I want to be a Kempton.

The only slip-up was when they passed this silver box with snacks in it. The speaker guy explained that it was a sacrament and Tank whispered “not for you,” but I missed the not part and tried to help myself to it when his father had finished. Mr. Kempton pulled it away sharply and shook his head then made this dramatic pass over my head to Tank like they were playing keep away. Tank took his and passed it on and then rubbed my thigh for just a second when his father turned away from us.

“Sorry,” I whisper, but he just laughs and tells me he should have told me before.

We get through it ok and then we walk to the priesthood class where I’ll join him and his friends.

“The whole thing is weird because you’re serving snacks at your event and then say your new visitors can’t have one, it’s kinda rude. Next time you want a cheeto at my house, you’ll be SOL, buddy.” I tell him this and he bursts out laughing like it’s the weirdest but cutest thing I’ve ever said.

“It’s sacrament. It is blessed and it’s the body of Christ. It’s for your own good to not eat it. It’s making a vow to follow the teachings and… there’s a lot of history behind it. Do you want a cookie? We have cookies in the meeting hall,” Tank offers.

“A cookie would make me feel better,” I say and realize there is a lot to learn about his faith.

“Ok, little one. I geeet you cookie.” He does an impression of my dad’s accent and laughs. “It’s so cute how he calls you that and the way he talks to you. I love your family.”

“Yeah you think that until you have to live with them! It gets pretty bad when I’m their only source of parental attention.” I shoot back as we walk to an area where there is a kitchen and trays of snacks and drinks. “Jackpot!”

We scoop up cookies and head for the priesthood course. It’s back in the room where we made out and I instantly feel dirty when we walk in. It’s a mix of twelve guys around our ages. Tank’s older brothers are in the adult classes and his younger siblings are with the little kids.

“Sup, Kempton? Where you been?” a guy calls from the back table. I can see Tank’s shoulders tense up but then he changes into this lopey bro walk and spreads his arms like he’s just won something.

“All good, all good. Mom’s been on me for service all week,” Tank says in this casual tone the jock guys back home always use with each other. He walks towards the two guys then gives them each a handslap before lounging in an empty seat next to them.

“This is Hayden, new bud. Just moved from Cali,” Tank says as I take the seat next to him. They both give me head nods. I don’t find out their names because the teacher guy calls our attention and everyone goes silent.

Tank maintains a safe distance from me during the class. It feels kind of weird but I try to listen to the discussion on someone’s upcoming mission. The guy is going to Taiwan and they pray for him and he talks about how he has been preparing for it. It sounds intense. I couldn’t imagine caring so much about something that I commit two years of my life to it in a different country.

“I haven’t really thought much about where I might go. I’m learning Spanish and hopefully it’ll be a country where they speak that, but you never know where your calling will be,” Tank says when it’s his turn to contribute.

“You’re going on a mission?” I ask suddenly. I hadn’t heard him talk about it.

“We all do. Well most of us do. It’s for two years and we go where we’re called,” he says.

“Are you not LDS?” the teacher asks me and looks at me with concern.

“No, sir. I’m just visiting with him.” I point to Tank.

“You should be in the Gospel principles class,” he says and looks at me like I don’t belong here.

“My father said he could stay with me. He’s visiting.” Tank looks annoyed that he’s being questioned. He gets the slightest of attitudes with the teacher man.

“Oh… well welcome,” the man straightens up like he’s been corrected. I guess Tank’s dad outranks him here. “Do you attend another church?” His tone sounds judgy like he’s sure I don’t.

“He doesn’t,” Tank says flatly and that ends the discussion. I look over at Tank and he looks kind of smug. He’s laid back in his chair with one arm up behind him, fully open like he’s not concerned in the least.

After the class, we head back to Tank’s house. His parents are hosting a big BBQ for Father’s Day and my mom is coming to help his mom. By the time we get to his house, there are already a few cars pulling up with people I don’t know.

We find Mrs. Kempton in the kitchen and she immediately starts asking Tank to bring her things from “the store room.” She rattles through a list of canned things and Tank nods knowingly. I follow him to an oversized pantry that has two rows of shelves. It’s like a small 7-11. He pulls me back between shelves and kisses me. We hadn’t had any space together because Gideon was in the car with us and I was stuck in the backseat again.

“You had fun? Nothing was too weird, right?” he whispers to me when we take a break from the liplock. He looks out of breath and I feel weak in his hold. I don’t know why he makes me feel smaller than he is. It wasn’t like that at first, but the more I get into his world the more things shift between us. It feels weird to me. I’m taller and more muscled than he is, but he’s earning his nickname of Tank. I feel a little rolled over.

“It was cool. I like your family. We should probably get the stuff your mom wants,” I say and start to look through the shelves. Tank nods then moves around grabbing things. We load up our arms and then he stops me in the back corner as I’m grabbing a jar of home-canned peaches. He nuzzles into me, pushing me against the wall. He gets one last kiss then bites at my chin with a playful growl.

We go back out to the kitchen and my mom is there. I get a kiss on the cheek as I unload things on the counter. She has her hands in a big bowl breaking up broccoli into small chunks. She asks me how it went. She nods towards a backpack she brought for me with clothes to change into.

“He was on his best behavior. I only hope Mr. Jacobson didn’t pester you too much. We have talked to him before about being too pushy with newcomers,” Mrs. Kempton said as she stepped to the counter beside mom and began mixing sauces in another bowl.

“Is that Lyric Jacobson? I had the biggest crush on him in high school!” Mom coos.

“Not Lyric, his younger brother Levi. He’s a good priesthood teacher, but he can be a bit zealous. Lyric moved up to St. George. He married Macy Demaris!” Mrs. Kempton laughs like this is scandalous.

“Macy was such a sluh…” Mom starts to say slut but then remembers there are kids in the room (us). “Slumber party… yeah, a total slumber party.” She laughs and Mrs. Kempton bursts out in giggles as well.

“The slumber party has four kids now! They married about ten years back.” Mrs. Kempton and mom exchange more giggles. I roll my eyes at Tank.

“Hey mom. We’re going to head up to my room til lunch is ready, ok?” Tank asks.

“Sure, honey. Oh that Aaron kid from your school should be here soon. I’ll send him up to your room when the Hatches get here!” his mom says.

“No, Mom! C’mon. Why’d you invite them?” Tank protests. I piece together that this is the gay Aaron that Tank does not care much for.

“Mr. Hatch works with your father and they didn’t have plans for Father’s day! His mother needs support. I know Aaron is a tough kid, but I feel a calling for you to reach him. You’ve never been afraid of a little work, right?” his mom asks. I watch Tank swallow his anger. He forces a smile and kisses his mom’s cheek.

+++

“I can’t believe she invited him! Gross!” Tank says after closing his door.

“I’ve never seen your room before!” I grab a football off his shelf and start tossing it in the air.

His room looks like it has one purpose, sleep. There are a few inspirational posters on the wall and some trophies on a bookshelf, but the room is mostly utilitarian. There are dirty clothes in a pile near the corner and a lot of baseball gear along the walls. He has a simple twin bed with a dark blue comforter and a small desk that is completely clear on top. His dresser has the drawers pushed in neatly, and there are a few school books and religious texts on his shelf.

“I just got it to myself. I used to share with Gideon when my parents were hosting missionaries last year, but they moved on and Gideon moved out. Now it’s all mine!” He walks over to the dresser and starts to take his tie off.

“Should I um… go change in the bathroom?” I offer. Tank shakes his head at me.

“You afraid to show some skin?” He unbuttons his church shirt and I open the backpack my mom brought for me. I’ve never gotten naked in front of someone I liked before. It feels weird and I fumble with the buttons on my dress shirt.

I turn around and see him standing there in a pair of blue boxer briefs. He’s standing with his elbow up on the top of the dresser and doing something with his phone.

“My friends are going to Hurricane Harbor tomorrow! Dang it. I have service tomorrow,” he says and frowns at his phone. I slide down my pants and step out of them as he’s typing something out.

“The waterpark? I saw a commercial for it! It looks cool!” I say and quickly pull on the pair of shorts my mom brought me before Tank can look up.

“Aww, I missed it! Wait. Shorts off. Do it again!” Tank suddenly looks up from his phone with sadness. He looks at me with hunger.

“No,” I laugh. “I’m not your stripper, dude!”

“Hayden Ali Davis-Hamad,” he says my full name. “You will strip for me now!”

“I will not!” I laugh and grab for the t-shirt my mom put in the backpack.

“Stop. Let me…” Tank starts then comes at me. He takes the tshirt from my hand and stares at my bare chest. My bronze skin with brown nipples looks so dark against his pale, toned chest.

“Let me just…” Tank says as he kisses my shoulder then leans in and bites softly on my nipple.

“Hey! Someone could walk in!” I laugh. I am so ready to devour Tank.

“Right, right,” he says and puts his hand in the center of my chest. He pushes me back against his door to block it. “We need to barricade.”

He goes for it then and our lips lock. We’re standing there - him in his underwear and me in my shorts- kissing and holding each other like the world’s going to end at any moment. He’s so hard and it rubs against my shorts. My body melts into his and he feels so good pressing against me.

“I love you, Hayden.” Tank whispers in my ear after kissing up my jaw. I gasp as he hits a sensitive spot.

“I love you too. You feel so good.” I am breathless and desperate for him. I don’t even know what I want to do, but I know he will figure it out. He pushes against me and he smells so good and I just want to…

“Guys? I’m supposed to tell you your mom wants you,” a voice calls from the other side of the door.

“Frickin Aaron,” Tank hisses and pulls back from me. I stand there, hard and cold and lonely. Pulling his skin off of mine sends me into a deep crash and I just want to lunge at him.

“We’ll be out in a minute, changing, kay?” Tank calls.

“Yeah, whatever,” Aaron says like he doesn’t buy it at all.

“Furg,” Tank curses in his strongest mormon language. He goes for his dresser and pulls on a t-shirt and shorts.

“Were we about to…” I trail off. It’s pointless now. It’s not like we could have done much anyways with a house full of guests downstairs.

“I meant it, Hayden. I love you,” he says as he pulls a shirt on over that tight, chiseled chest.

“Me too….” I admit. I mean it. I really do. He’s all I want and I need more. I am ready for more.

Chapter 8- Hayden Comes Home

“You boys disappeared! Playing the new video game?” Mrs. Kempton asks as Tank and I reappear in the kitchen.

“Sorry, mom. Aaron said you need help?” Tank asks. His cheeks burn and he looks annoyed.

“I want you to include him. Make an effort. He could use some friends,” his mom says with a tone that does not sound open to debate. She nods towards the patio door and I follow Tank.

Aaron sits on the back patio under the shade. On either side of him are his siblings, one boy and one girl. I can tell they’re siblings because they look like cleaned up versions of him. Where Aaron is wearing a black t-shirt with muppets dressed in gang colors, his siblings look more clean-cut and ready for a wholesome family barbecue.

Aaron pushes his blonde hair out of his eyes and I notice the blue streak through the top now has a light pink one beside it. I wonder how his family sees him. They didn’t leave him at home, so that’s something. It has to be hard for him to stand out so much in this peach stucco wonderland of uniformity. I wonder if other people at his school avoid him as adamantly as Tank does.

He looks up from his phone when he sees us and offers me a smile. I expect him to add a snide comment about what we must have been doing in Tank’s bedroom, but he doesn’t. He stands up and walks towards us then gives a nod to Tank.

“You bring a swimsuit?” Tank asks Aaron and waves at the pool with an out of place laugh.

“Nah, I’m avoiding the sun today,” Aaron says but then looks down like he’s insecure about it.

“It’s pretty fierce today,” I offer but then Tank cuts me off.

“Good. We just cleaned it yesterday,” Tank says before I can finish.

“That’s rude,” I whisper to him and Tank’s smile vanishes.

“No. It’s… He threw up in our pool at my 10th birthday party. He ralphed everywhere and we had to get everyone out,” Tank tries to explain but it just makes him sound like more of a dick.

Aaron looks down. He doesn’t respond and it touches a nerve in me I didn’t know was there.

“Why are you such a dick to him? That’s embarrassing and happened years ago. I don’t think he’d do that again,” I say and Aaron looks up at me with thank filled eyes. My mom didn’t raise me to stand by when someone gets bullied like that. It seems so weird and out of place. Tank has this irrational dislike of Aaron who mostly just seems to exist.

“I’m not… Why do you take his side?” Tank looks at me like I betrayed him. His cheeks burn red and he looks straight at me like he’s staring me down.

“I’m not, but what did he even do to you? You act like he did something,” I wonder if there isn’t more to the story here. Tank flares his nostrils at that and turns then goes back inside the house.

“Thanks. He’s fine. He just doesn’t like me,” Aaron says when Tank passes through the sliding doors in a huff.

“Did something happen? I don’t get it,” say, but Aaron just shakes his head.

“Nah. It’s fine. But you should go after him. I don’t want to cause problems. Our parents insist on being friends because our dads work together… but thanks. That was nice,” Aaron says. He offers a genuine smile.

I stand there awkwardly, wanting to say something but not sure how to get it out.

“I think you’re brave, you know?” I ask and he raises an eyebrow at me.

“I mean in SoCal you’d be totally fine, but it takes a lot to stand out here. It’s got to be hard to be yourself and open in a place like this,” I say.

“It’s cool. I don’t know how to be anyone else. I tried to fit in, but it didn’t work and if they’re going to hate me, at least they can hate the real me. Right?” Aaron laughs uneasily.

“Well I think you’re cool and back home you’d have like a ton of guys all over you!” I say.

“Who says I don’t have that here?” he laughs. “I get plenty of ass.”

“Oh! Woah! Right!” I blush at that.

“Kidding, dude. It’s cute when you blush… It’s cute when you do a lot of things. I can see why Tank’s so possessive.” Aaron laughs.

“He’s not,” I lower my voice. There are a lot of people out here and they aren’t paying attention to us, but they could be. “Seriously. He’s not like that.” I give him a pleading look with my eyes.

“Fine. I’ll play along. He’s keeping you on reserve for… what then?” Aaron tries to call my bluff.

“Not here, dude….” I beg him to shut up about this. If the Kemptons found out about their son, well there was just too much at risk. He had a perfect life here and I didn’t want to bring it down.

“Cool. Well you did agree to hang out with me that day we met at the park. So maybe we can discuss it then?” Aaron lightens up. He pulls out his phone.

“Hayden, I need you inside.” Tank suddenly appears from behind me and grabs my arm. His voice sounds deeper and softer, but he’s calmed down.

“Sure, lets…” I start to say, but before I can finish he is pulling me back towards the house.

He pulls me through the kitchen but his mom stops us. My mom is helping her make salad.

“You boys don’t take too long, and get the good sauce!” Mrs. Kempton calls as I follow Tank through the kitchen and then to the front door. I follow him to his car and get in beside him.

“Where are we going? Why were you being so rude to Aaron? Did he do something?” I ask as he backs his car out of the driveway and begins to race up Meadows Drive.

“You don’t know him like I do. He’s always trying to start problems with me.” Tank sighs as he comes to the stop light and checks the traffic on Baseline.

“He seems nice and he was being polite. It can’t be easy to be the only out and obvious guy at a big mormon family gathering. He probably felt out of place,” I point out.

“It’s not that. He knows about me. He knows I can’t be out and he clearly knows you’re mine and he wants to get between us,” Tank sighs and makes a left when the light turns green for him.

“I think he’s just looking for friends. I think maybe him being so out bothers you because you can’t be out?” I offer. I instantly regret saying that. Tank grips the wheel with white knuckles.

“We need barbecue sauce… going to Safeway,” Tank sighs and stares straight ahead.

“I didn’t mean that,” I say.

“You did and it probably looks that way to you, but that’s not how it is. I don’t know how to make you see it and I’m just going to sound like a jealous prick trying to explain it to you. I wish you’d trust me on this. He’s always trying to stir up trouble wherever he can. He sees something between us and he has to jump in the middle of it and try to turn you against me and get you for himself.” Tank lays this out in a tone so filled with sadness.

I want to hold him, make him feel better. I want him to be ok.

“Can’t two guys who are gay be friends without it meaning more? I don’t have any interest in him. I want you so I can’t talk to another guy who likes guys?” I reach my hand over to rest on his thigh.

“See? I’m a jealous prick any way I explain it. It’s not fair. I can’t protect you from him without making me look like the awful jerk.” He shakes his head and swallows the lump in his throat as we pull into the Safeway parking lot. He finds the last shady spot under a tree far from the entrance then turns the car off and looks over at me.

“No, it’s not that. I just don’t want it to be like this anytime I try to make a new friend.” I feel so confused and I hate seeing him upset like this. I also don’t want to be rude to Aaron for no reason. He hasn’t done anything to me.

“Look, Hayden. I agree it must be hard for Aaron and maybe that’s what made him turn into this, but I am not going to let him mess us up. You’re the sweetest, most handsome guy I’ve ever met in my life and I just don’t want him messing that up. I feel helpless here.” He takes my hand and squeezes it.

I nod. I lean across the middle and kiss him. I put my hand on his cheek and close my eyes against his warmth. He’s right. I can’t let anything come between this. I need him.

“I’ll be polite to him. I shouldn’t have made that stupid joke. But I hope you’ll trust me that his intentions are not good.” He puts out his last effort to end this.

“I trust you. We should make peace with him though since your parents keep inviting them over,” I point out. He gives me a quick kiss then starts to get out of the car.

We grab the sauce his mom needs and a bag of grapes my mom will want and then head back to his house. I avoid Aaron and stick by Tank. We help our moms with the food and then sit between them at lunch.

We have too many people at this Father’s Day BBQ so instead of the dining table there is a big crowd in the living room where Gideon and Brigham have brought in every chair they can get their hands on. Mr. Kempton shows us the LDS church video for Malaysia which is where Brigham is set to go in a few months on his mission. It looks like a nice country.

Aaron looks at me a few times like he knows Tank and I discussed him.

I feel awful when our eyes meet. I think back to every anti-bullying class I sat through at school. I don’t want to be that.

He didn’t do anything to me and that makes this feeling ten times worse. It sucks and I end up barely touching my food because the taste of being a bad person fills my throat and sears my tongue. I know I need to talk about this or it’s going to eat a hole through my chest.

Tank and I are going to have to figure this out. I’m not someone who can treat another kid like that. I don’t make fun of people and hurt their feelings when they did nothing to me. It’s not who I am and this feels really shitty. 

+++

Thursday night my mom gets home from work exhausted. She’s been putting in long hours at the new job and is loving every minute of it. It’s her first week and she tells me she is already impressing them with her concepts. I make macaroni and cheese for us and she gives me a kiss as she drops her bag on the small dining table.

“I’ve never felt this good about my future,” she glows between yawns.

“That’s awesome!” I tell her as I bring her a bowl of macaroni and sit across from her at the little table for two. I move her work bag to the couch.

“What did you do all day? How many hours did you put in at the thrift store? I’ll be there Saturday to make up time. I can’t wait til we get our own place.” She starts to ramble on but then her phone rings with a facetime from dad. She accepts it and sets the phone up on the side counter so dad can see us both.

“You are eating dinner? I have surprise for you!” He says with a laugh that tells me this is something big. He looks so happy.

“What kind of surprise?” Mom raises an eyebrow at him and takes a bite of dinner.

“You must get in car to see! I will lead you to it!” Dad holds up a paper with handwritten directions that are a mix of Arabic and English script.

“Oh Ali I just got home and I am so tired,” she sighs. “Can’t it wait?”

“No! No wait! Not for one more minute! You will like surprise!” Dad holds up one finger and point it at mom as if to say he means business.

“Fine! This had better be good or I’ll start blocking your calls,” mom jokes.

“If is not best surprise of your year then I will block my own calls!” Dad promises, but I’m not even sure that’s a real thing. “You too, little one! Help your mommy.” He turns his finger to me.

“Ok, baba.” I laugh. He looks like he is about to burst with joy and it reminds me of the old days when everything was happier. I jump up and grab mom’s purse and keys. I hold the phone for her as we walk out to her car. Dad keeps prodding us on through the phone.

“Get in and turn car on!” he says this like it’s something we wouldn’t know to do.

“Ugh,” mom groans. “Why did I marry this man?”

“Because you are too sweet to know better,” dad jokes.

Dad reads the directions to us… in Arabic. He translates them for mom as she drives out of the townhouse development and on to Superstition Springs. He sends us down Power and then over on Baseline and then into Tank’s neighborhood.

“This is where the Kemptons live,” mom says. “We’ve been here before. This better not be our surprise. I don’t feel like dinner with them tonight.”

“No, no, my love. Keep to straight on. Do not turn before I say this,” he says. We head down Tank’s street then she slows down in front of the Kemptons’ house.

“No, not here. Keep to go on! Turn for Desert Lane” dad commands. I shrug at mom. We drive past the Kemptons’ place and then he has us turn on a street that makes a circle behind their house.

“Where are we going?” mom asks.

“Look for the house with number eight five eight. Is you can see?” Dad asks. The sun is just starting to set so it’s still bright enough outside to see the numbers.

“That one!” I say and point to a one story peach stucco with a dramatic entryway. It has a big garage on one side and windows on the other but between them is an arched, mission-style entryway with a glowing lantern sconce on either side. The front is a large gravel bed with a wide cactus and towering ocotillo.

“Pull in the driveway!” dad says.

“Do you know these people, Ali? I can’t just pull into someone’s driveway.” Mom sounds like she is ready to snap at dad big time. She is tired and over this.

“I know them well. They are most important people in my life and I promise I will give them home and take care for their needs. I hope they like this,” Dad’s face on the screen is pure joy when he sees our mouths drop.

“You bought us a house?” Mom squeals.

“My family agree to buy this as investment. We will pay them back, but first six months is no charge. Is plenty of time for I will be back with my loves. You like? Yes?” Dad looks like his old self, like the dad that always scored a victory and made the earth move for us.

“I love it! It’s ours? Are you kidding me? You bought a real house for us? Oh it’s beautiful, Ali! It’s too small and in the wrong state and a dreadful bland stucco, but it’s honestly the best surprise you’ve ever given me! Oh I love it, baby! I love you so much. Holy shit!” Mom starts to cry as she eases into the driveway. She comes to a stop and I lean over and put the car into park just in case she forgets.

She grabs the phone from me and cries while my dad beams. He starts to tear up too and I lean over and put my head on mom’s shoulder.

“I promise I take care for what is mine,” dad says proudly. He looks back and forth between my face and mom’s. He soaks in our happiness and I know none of us will ever forget this moment.

“Ok now go see house! Show to me! I see realtor video, but I want see your reactions! Every room!” Dad wags his finger at us excitedly.

We get out and find the whole Kempton family pulling up in their cars. Tank parks behind mom and jumps out, beaming with excitement.

“You knew!” I yell and punch him on the shoulder.

“Of course! My dad found the place for him. He’s one of Arizona’s best realtors! We hid out in our cars until you drove past!” Tank beams. Mr. Kempton comes over and gives my mom the keys and exchanges greetings with my dad through the phone.

“You should have see their faces look so happy! You do good job to choose this place,” dad is telling Mr. Kempton as Tank and I head towards the front door. I look in the window but it is too dark inside to see anything.

Mr. Kempton comes and unlocks it for us. Inside the doorway is a stone entryway with a large living room to the left. Behind it is a bar that opens to the kitchen. Everything is new and shiny with dark granite counters and the dark wood cabinets that are definitely mom’s style. There is a dining room behind it and then large sliding glass doors out to a large covered patio with a grill built into an outdoor kitchen.

“Backyard!” Tank says as he yanks on my arm. He’s smaller than me, but has a very powerful grip. I follow him out back and he waves his arms around towards the back fence.

“Nice yard,” I say.

“And? Do you notice anything? Seriously, Hayden. Big big surprise no?” Tank asks as he dances around flailing his arms.

“Um there’s no pool and you are doing a dance. What else?” I ask.

“My window! That one right up there!” He points and jumps around. Behind him is a big two story house and…

“That’s your house!!” I suddenly figure it out. “Your house backs up to ours!?”

“You took way too long to get that!” He laughs. “Good thing you’re hot!”

“You live right behind us! We can hang out all the time! We put a gate in or some stairs or something!” I light up thinking about the possibilities.

“This is going to be so awesome! And now you’re in my school district so in a few weeks we’ll be…” Tank says but I cut him off.

“A few weeks? It’s not even July yet!” I tell him.

“School starts early here. It’s too hot to be outside so we always go back last week of July in Arizona. We get out early May when it’s still cool enough to enjoy summer,” Tank informs me. If I hadn’t just found out we have a new house, I would be devastated by this discovery.

We find my mom inside checking everything out. There is a huge master bedroom suite and then two smaller rooms with a shared bathroom between them. I choose the room farthest from hers and we decide the third room will be her design studio.

“Furniture! We’ll need our furniture and so much more! Oh the things we can do with all this space!” My mom says when she notices the house is empty.

“Is delivery coming tomorrow evening. Everything from storage is come in big truck,” my dad assures. He loves that he has planned for everything.

“I can’t believe it, babe. You did it! You really did it!” Mom shrieks and Mrs. Kempton comes up to side-hug her.

“Of course I do! I tell you I will. I promise, everything is good soon again. Ok, my loves? I will be with you as soon as is possible. I promise this.” Dad sounds choked up. The Kempton kids wander around our house and check things out while the parents stay near my mom.

“And I’ll keep an eye on them.” Mr. Kempton nods his head in solemn vow.

“Yes! Is best part. They live right behind in the house so you are not unprotected. They keep eye on my family. Very good friends! Hayden will have big family to watch over my little one.” Dad says this and mom lights up with a smile.

“Oh I didn’t even think of that! How wonderful!” Mom laughs.

“And I’ll give Hayden a ride to school every day so he’ll be on time. The bus system isn’t the best here,” Tank adds.

“And he can eat dinner with us when you work late and the boys can play together whenever they want,” Mrs. Kempton chimes in.

“You have family here. You always did,” Mr. Kempton assures.

“I can help if anything needs fixing,” Gideon feels the need to pipe up.

“And I’ll fix the things he breaks while trying to fix them!” Brigham laughs.

“We can test out the pool if you guys get one. You really do need a pool!” Tank’s little brother, Cohyn, tells us.

“So wonderful! Oh it’s a dream come true,” mom says. She can’t stop crying.

The Kemptons hang out for awhile. The two older boys and Tank drive back to the townhouse with us and help us get some of our things so we can spend the first night in the new place. Mrs. Kempton brings over sleeping bags and extra pillows for us from their house. She also puts some leftover containers of food in the fridge for us and bottles of water. She leaves a tupperware of fresh cookies on the counter.

Mom and I camp out in the living room that first night. We tuck into our sleeping bags and she puts an old movie on her phone and props it up on the hardwood floor between us. It’s a dumb comedy about a family on a vacation that falls apart completely. I fall asleep twenty minutes into it. It feels so nice to be in a place of our own.

We’re not in the shelter anymore and I feel like things are finally getting back on the right track. I know Dad will join us and everything will be good again. I don’t even care about getting back to California I just want everything to be ok again, together again. 

https://youtu.be/2Ri-q1RU7rQ

Chapter 9- Tank You For Your Service

Author’s Note: This chapter is way too long and should have been two short chapters. Sorry! :) 

-Em

————————-

Friday morning my mom orders everything we need to setup the house from her computer at work in Tempe. My dad goes online and pays for it from Saudi Arabia, and Tank and I pick it up at the big Target in Mesa.

“This feels great,” Tank says as we bring in the last bag from his car.

“You like bringing in bags in the hundred degree heat?” I laugh and search out the frozen things before my mom can text me again to get them into the freezer quickly.

“With you, I mean. It’s so rare for me to be in a house without people running around making noise. It’s only me and you here. We could be naked…” He proposes this with a raised eyebrow and bites his lip.

“Your mom or dad could walk in at any minute! They both have keys!” I remind him.

“Only shirts off then. Yeah? Mom’s at a ladies lunch and dad’s showing commercial properties in Union Hills so…” He starts to pull up his t-shirt. One look at his abs and that belly button has me popping in my shorts.

“We have to get this stuff put away. The movers are on their way and everyone will start showing up in a few hours,” I say this, but I’m quickly drawn to him.

He lifts his shirt up and secures the edge of it between his teeth. Those green eyes widen when I pull my shirt up. He nods his head and his lips spread into a smile that brings out those deep dimples in his cheeks. He took his shirt off completely and we stared each other down.

Before I met Tank I’d never thought twice about going around shirtless, but things felt different here. Other than hanging out in his pool, I never saw any of them without full clothing. Here we were in the new kitchen putting away frozen foods with our shirts off and it felt really hot.

We fill up the refrigerator then put away the pantry items. We keep intentionally pushing against each other, it’s not that small of a kitchen.

“Scuse me,” he laughs and rubs a hand over my back as he reaches for the cans of peas.

“Oops, my bad,” I cup his butt when I squeeze in behind him in the pantry to put packs of foil on a low shelf.

“Sorry, bud!” Tank pushes his shorts against my butt and this time he doesn’t even have anything to put on the shelf. He pistons against me playfully then kisses between my shoulderblades.

“You’re not even trying!” I laugh and turn to see his hands empty.

“I’m trying very VERY hard,” he asserts and covers his zipper area with his hand.

“Dude! Let’s go stock the bathrooms!” I shake my head and laugh. He’s too cute for words.

We put toilet paper on every holder and soap dispensers at every sink and shower products in each bathroom and then put the cleaners away in a caddy for under the sink. Mom thought of everything we’d need here short of our furniture coming on the truck.

“What else do we do? We still have an hour or so,” Tank says as we load the sheets and pillowcases into the washer. I put in the soap and he comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist.

He presses his chest against my back and I know we need to figure something out. As cool as my mom is about me and who I am, she definitely would not be ok with the two of us playing around here. Plus there are his parents to think about.

…And just as I think about them we hear someone unlocking the front door. We look at each other and then he tears out of there and goes back to find his t-shirt on the kitchen counter. I follow and quickly dive into mine when his mom’s voice surprises us.

“Boys? How are things going?” Mrs. Kempton calls from the front entryway and we hear her heels click clack on the stone floors.

“Great, mom! Just finishing!” Tank’s voice cracks like he’s just hitting puberty again.

“Hmmm!” She frowns at us. “You put things away already? I better check. I just got off the phone with your mother and she says the furniture should be here in two hours. They just stopped for lunch in Buckeye and apparently are legally required to take a full hour! I told her not to get California movers!” She laughs in that way Arizonans do when discussing us crazy Californians.

“I brought you two some pasta and treats from the luncheon.” She sets down a bag with containers of food on the kitchen counter and then goes about inspecting where we’ve put everything. I look at Tank as if we’ve narrowly escaped death. He shrugs and laughs.

“That Eden Brunson tried to commandeer the fundraiser for the children’s trip! I had to remind everyone of the terrible job she did at the last one! Remember that, Talmadge? Everyone got food poisoning! Two big tubs of Macaroni Salad she’d left in her car in the middle of August! She’s lucky no one died! Remember that?” His mom has her back to us as she rifles through the pantry and rearranges cans.

“Yes, mom. It was bad,” Tank says as I reach down and grab his bottom. I give it a squeeze and he yelps and laughs. He punches me in the chest so I back off.

“Eat your lunch, boys. We have a busy afternoon!” She turns to see what we’re laughing about.

“Yes, ma’am,” I say and grab the containers. Tank and I settle in against the bar while she takes off her blazer and begins to organize the pantry. Mom will have everything she needs except for her usual wine collection which the store would not give to two underage guys picking up groceries.

“I cannot wait to get you settled here. You know your mom was my best friend growing up? She knows more of my scandals than anyone but Jesus!” Mrs. Kempton laughs. We both laugh too because it’s hard to imagine her with scandals.

“I was so devastated when she moved away. I was pregnant with Talmadge when she’d left. We’d kind of lost touch after high school… I never met your dad and she went to ASU while I got married and took community college classes. Still, she threw me a baby shower for Brigham and then another for Gideon. She left before we could have one for Talmadge. I begged her not to go. I told her we’d have you two together…” She looks at us with wistful eyes.

“And now look at you two! Best of friends just like I knew you’d be! Two handsome boys. You should have grown up as brothers!” She says this and I look over at Tank who has this horrified expression on his face. We definitely would feel differently about each other if we’d grown up as brothers.

“I don’t blame your father! He didn’t want them going off to California. If your mom’s family had been supportive… Oh it’s not for me to get into.” Mrs. Kempton throws up her hands and shakes her head. “Not my place. Zip it, Sybil,” she tells herself.

“You knew her family?” I ask. She’s opened a door here that I hadn’t ever been allowed to explore. My mom would never speak of them. We didn’t even have pictures. I’m sure there was a box of them somewhere. Anytime I pressed her about it, it felt like an open wound.

“I still do.” She immediately turns around and tries to change the subject. “Do you think your mom will paint? I can’t imagine her settling for this color. Lisa has always had the best eye for these things.”

She’s dropped a bomb here, one I don’t think she meant to release. I want to press her, ask her about them. I want to know a name at least, or see a picture. I’d closed that curiosity off a long time ago because mom would never stand for it. She always made it seem like she just appeared out of thin air, but then she named me after the town they came from. It was weird and I felt like I’d just gotten a door to a parallel universe.

“Can you tell me anything about them?” I ask. She turns around like she’s just been shot at.

“Oh, Hayden. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. I have a big mouth sometimes and I just got your mother back. I really don’t want to cause trouble. I’m sorry.” Mrs. Kempton gives me a pleading look. I know she won’t say more. She talks about my mom like she was her idol. I understand that. My mom can be quite the mean girl when she gets upset about something.

“It’s ok, Mrs. Kempton.” I let her off the hook. “No worries.” She smiles and reaches across the counter to pat my hand.

“Thank you for the pasta. It’s really good!” I tell her and her smile widens more. She has a hint of the deep dimples Tank shows off. I look over at him to compare and he gives me a grateful nod.

“Anytime, dear. You will never go hungry in this neighborhood,” she assures me.

+++

Mom comes rushing home about five minutes before the movers get there. She gives me a kiss on the cheek then dashes to her room to change out of her suit.

The entire Kempton family is sitting around the living room floor. They’ve been here for an hour and seem perfectly content playing a word game where they go around the circle and fill in the sentence “The preacher’s cat ate ___.” Each person goes up one letter in the alphabet putting and adjective and then a food like “The preacher’s cat ate awful apples, borrowed beef, crusty cauliflower, etc…”

When one person can’t think of something within five seconds then they are out and the next person takes their turn. It’s entirely too wholesome, but they all seem to enjoy it. They help the younger kids when it’s their turns, but they object when Tank tries to help me.

Mom comes back out wearing a tshirt and yoga pants with her hair up in a messy bun. She stops and stares at us like we’re some kind of zoo creatures. She shrugs and laughs. I don’t think my family has played something like this since I was five.

“I feel like I need to record this,” she says with a smile. “I barely get Hayden to have more than a five minute conversation with me!”

“He’s a good kid! We kind of overwhelm new people with our family time. He is putting up with us quite well,” Mrs. Kempton says. She has the younger girl, Ashtyn, on her lap and helps her fill in “… cat ate gushing geraniums.” Ashtyn laughs and her mother kisses her hair.

Mom checks the movers on her phone and announces they are just down the street. She jumps excitedly and the Kemptons move into action. When the movers pull up, they are ready to assist and direct. Mom stands by the kitchen bar so she can survey the whole open area. She points and barks and everyone moves about.

“I’ll help with your room,” Tank says and we follow the movers as they carry my bed down the hall.

I have the coolest bed in the world. My dad got it for me when we went up the coast to Monterey for my 13th birthday. We found this shop in Half Moon Bay that made furniture from the vintage surf era. The frame looks like an old woodie station wagon with red lacquer paint and vintage wood they used in the real cars back then. I show Tank how to snap the pieces into place and we had it together when the movers brought in my mattress and box spring.

“This is beautiful! And this mattress feels like it’s giving me a hug!” He stretches out on my bed and I want to dive in next to him.

“We got new mattresses just before Christmas. It’s some new Japanese type,” I note.

“You guys are loaded!” Tank says this and it emphasizes how far my family fell.

“We were…” I shrug. Tank sits up. He reads my mood and pats the bed beside him. I sit next to him. I forgot how good this bed feels.

“You’re getting your life back together.” He sits up and moves next to me so it won’t look too gay if someone walks in. “And I’m going to be here every step of it. Ok?” He looks at the open doorway then leans over and kisses my shoulder.

The movers bring in the rest of my past. It looks so weird to see my furniture in here. The dresser my dad had custom made for me to match the bed, the flat screen TV that Tank says his brothers will help me hang on the wall, the bookshelves where I kept my vintage action figures, books, and music stuff. My past comes wafting in piece by piece and it feels like a lifetime ago.

“This stuff is so Orange County!” Tank tells me. “I mean I’ve only driven been there once, but the stuff you see on tv. It’s wow.”

“Yep that’s me! Skater trick monster from the 949!” I laugh because the real Orange County is nothing like it is on tv.

“I hope you guys are happy here… I worried when you talked about going back. Do you think your mom will want to?” He comes back to sit beside me and bites his lip in that cute nervous way he always has.

“I don’t know. She said her job is going to open stores in California and they want her for that. We might. Who knows. I just want my dad to come back,” I say.

“That has to suck. I’m sorry. You can use mine until yours comes home,” he offers this like his dad is an extra toothbrush. It makes me laugh, though. Things are pretty good in Arizona.

+++

We finish up with my bedroom then go out to see Mrs. Kempton and the boys unpacking our kitchen things. She is loading up the dishwasher while the older boys open boxes and take out moving trash.

Mom is directing the movers on how to position our dining table. She wants it perfectly centered and it comes down to a matter of inches as they slide the heavy table back and forth.

It takes us until almost 8pm to finish, but the Kemptons are diligent workers and they make sure that everything is as mom wants it. Mom finally sighs with contentment and announces we’re good. Everyone looks pleased. Mr. Kempton orders pizza and Mrs. Kempton sends the older boys to get fruit punch from their fridge.

The Kemptons go home an hour later. Tank sticks around for another hour and helps me set up the tv antenna (mom thinks cable is a waste of money and we’ll stream everything once the internet gets set up). Mom find a channel that shows old shows from when she was a kid so we settle in and watch some with her.

When Tank’s mom texts him that it’s time to come home, we go out to the backyard so he can climb over the fence. It’s only 6 feet and it has wooden slats across it on our side so he easily lifts himself up to the top of it. He’s about to hop over to his side, but then jumps back down on our side and we spend a few minutes making out. It’s darker and quieter here than in the area where our townhouse was. It feels private and it takes everything in us to separate when his phone buzzes again.

“I gotta go. We’ll hang tomorrow? Some of my teammates are going to the batting cages where I took you. Wanna come with?” he offers with a hopeful smile.

“Definitely.” I kiss him again then help him get up and over the fence. He lands with a yelp and we decide we need to invest in a ladder tomorrow.

+++

8:00 AM finds me opening my eyes to see Tank hovering over me wearing a tight compression shirt with the sleeves cut off and running shorts. It’s nice but creepy to wake up and find him watching me.

“You always sleep like this?” he asks as he studies me. I feel his hand on my hair, pushing his fingers through it. He sits down next to me on the bed and I really want to pull him down under the covers and hold him. Spooning Tank would be a great way to wake up.

“Huh?” I stretch and yawn.

“You do movie sleep. On your back with the covers over your chest. I sleep on my side and hug a pillow and the covers are always twisted around me when I wake up. You do some weird sleeping beauty thing,” he laughs. I’m semi disoriented but I offer a smile. He puts his hand on my chest and rubs me like a puppy.

“Well c’mon and get up! Your mom let me in. She went to work. She says to put the trash out before you go… I did it already. Get dressed! We got balls that need to be pummelled!” He pulls the blanket off of me and I stretch and nod.

As I’m dressing, he pulls at the yearbook I was perusing before I fell asleep last night.

“Where’s your… Ah! Band nerd! Look at you with your flute. You gotta play for me some time!” He laughs and flips through to find more pictures of me. “Earth-Love Club? Hayden Davis leads the cleanup at the Santa Ana riverbed! Muslim Student Association? I can’t ever imagine us having one of those! Look at you! Cutie boy!” Tank is enjoying himself way too much critiquing my memories.

“Stop that,” I pull the yearbook from him and grab a shirt. “Lemme just brush my teeth. Two minutes!” I dash off to the bathroom and do a quick wash-up.

We get to the batting cages and Tank is welcomed by a chorus of guys I don’t know. He turns from the easygoing guy I know into Mr. super bro. He doles out bro shakes and his voice goes to this jockspeak playfulness that is kinda hot.

“Saved you a cage. One of the B-teamers tried to sneak over to this side. Had to karate chop him!” One of the guys tells Tank. Two other guys circle behind him and I get introduced to the three as Brenan, Eli, and Colby. They’re all a little taller than Tank, closer to my height and size, but that same wholesome mormon boy look like most of the guys around here.

“Thanks. This is Hayden. New guy from Cali. He’ll hit with me,” Tank says.

“Bruh! You were supposed to team with me this time! You’re gonna stick me with these Yeeters?” Colby says and sounds a little whiny.

“Don’t worry, Bae,” Tank puts his hands on Colby’s shoulders and rubs them gently. He gets this serious look and moves his face in close to Colby’s. “You know you’re still my favorite snack!”

“Gay!” Eli yells and Tank’s straight face cracks into a laugh.

“Troll.” Colby shoves Tank hard on the chest but Tank keeps on laughing.

“Don’t think you’re getting head from Colby tonight, Kempton,” Brenan jokes.

“I’ll live! Let’s hit,” Tank turns towards me and bends over to grab his bag. Colby smacks him on the ass. I think Colby has more than just friendship and baseball on his mind, but Tank seems like he doesn’t notice it.

We go through a repeat of the first time where Tank hits anything that flies and I struggle to not look like an idiot. But this time Tank doesn’t slide in behind me to help. He stands just behind me and tries to coach, but it just throws me off.

“You got this, Hayden, ease up on that bat,” he offers then lowers his voice and adds, “Your ass looks so tasty right now.” It is not helpful and I just want to go back to bed and hold him.

After an hour of this we cool down with powerade slushies one of the guys’ moms drops off in a big cooler. We all take shelter under an empty picnic pavillion and I sit on the bench between Tank and Colby with Brenan and Eli across from us.

“How’s your stalker doing?” Colby asks as the guys settle in for the cool down.

“You have a stalker?” I look up from my styrofoam cup with surprise.

“They mean Aaron. He’s fine. My mom had them over for Father’s day and he was chill,” Tank says. It makes me happy. He’s trying to be nice.

“You using his services yet? He’s pretty thirsty for ya,” Colby laughs but there’s a little jealousy in his voice. I will definitely ask Tank about this on the ride home.

“Nah,” Tank says flatly and takes a big gulp of his slushie.

“You seem awfully concerned about Tank’s junk there. You tryin to be next in line behind Aaron?” Brenan puts it out there and I want to laugh and hug him.

Colby looks flustered and angry.

“Here comes the pout,” Eli says. Colby mutters a few curse words at them.

“Lay off him. He’s a sensitive little flower,” Tank says and smacks Colby on the back.

“It’s weird though. He follows you around and all. That’s all I was saying,” Colby tries to explain.

“Our dads are friends so they force us together.” Tank shrugs. “Doesn’t mean he’s chasing me.”

“Yeah, not every gay guy is into every straight guy. Don’t make me report you to the bully box!” Eli jokes. I look at Tank and he explains that it is an anonymous box in the counselor’s office at school where kids can report things or ask for help.

They laugh and joke but things settle down after that and soon we are heading back to my house.

“So Colby, huh?” I ask when Tank pulls out of the parking lot.

“He’s a nice guy but he makes dumb jokes.” He checks the traffic then turns right onto Guadalupe.

“He’s definitely into you!” I sound a bit more jealous than I wanted to.

“What? No! Oh! Wait! Are you jealous? Someone’s sniffing around your toy?” Tank breaks out into a wide grin and looks at me for confirmation.

“You are! Hayden, seriously. You have nothing to worry about there, but if it turns you on to see that then by all means!” He puts his hand on my leg and slides it up towards my lap.

“Maybe a little,” I admit.

“Poor baby.” He pulls the car to a stop at a red light and leans over to kiss me. “Poor, beautiful boy.” The light turns green and we get a honk from the car behind us before he pulls his lips off mine and gives them an apology wave.

“I like how you stood up for Aaron. Thanks for that,” I tell him as he pulls into our neighborhood.

“I’m trying. I am….” He starts to explain, but then we get near his house and he slows way down. “That’s Jessica’s Honda! Why would she be here?”

We go into his house, sweaty and confused. His mom is there at the table and there’s a bubbly blonde girl across from her.

“You must be Hayden! Oh you are so cute!” She jumps up and comes at me.

“Hey Jess… what’s going on?” Tank offers her a hug but she recoils from his sweaty from, the same sweaty form I would really like to be touching right now.

“SO! I am turning sixteen in a month and we’re going to do a big cotillion!” She’s about to piss herself from happiness. I want her to go far, far away right now.

“What’s that?” he asks.

“It’s a southern thing. You know my mom’s from Alabama and she had a huge one when she was my age so she wants to do the same for me!” Jessica talks like she’s on a game show.

“Oh, cool. Yeah! Happy birthday!” Tank nods happily.

“And I want you to be my Beau!” She acts as if he should know what this is.

“Sure, what is it?” He forces a smile that makes me laugh.

“So you would be my guy counterpart. You’d be all dressed up and walk with me and there are dances to learn. It’s a big deal and a huge commitment with the practice stuff, but there is no one I’d rather have there for me!” She gives him that smile that begs for a yes.

“Huh… well… Yeah, sure! I wear a suit?” He sounds extremely disinterested in this.

“A tux. But my dad will take care of all the costs. We are going to have so much fun! Honestly you’re the first person I thought of. And your parents and family will go oh and Hayden you have to come too!” She puts her hand on my arm and it feels ice cold.

“When is it?” I’m hoping for a conflict of interest.

“Well my birthday is the 3rd, so but July 5th is a Friday so that seemed like a better date!” She is practically bouncing.

“July 5th is good,” Tank nods his head and serves up a practiced smile.

“And you, Hayden? You’ll come too! You have to!” She demands.

“That’s my birthday so…” I say. I don’t know why it mattered. I wasn’t planning a party or anything and my friends are back home in California. Then it dawns on me that even Tank won’t be there for my birthday now. I look away from them. It is a sharp and sudden hurt.

“Oh!” Tank gasps.

“Oh!” Jessica echoes.

“Oh,” Mrs. Kempton sighs.

“No prob. I gotta go shower. I’m rank.” I fake a laugh and it gets stuck halfway out of my throat. I waive then go straight out the front door and sprint around the block to my house.

My heart is pounding and I want to hit something because this sucks. I didn’t expect a big party this year or anything special, but I thought at least Tank and I could do something.

I immediately hate Jessica and Colby and Tank and this stupid house and this stupid neighborhood and all these stupid wholesome people in this stupid wholesome town. I hate peach stucco and batting cages and nothing feels ok.

Nothing feels ok.

Chapter 10- Hayden & The Sunrise

+‘+’+ We all have a Hunger +‘+’+

I get home and lock the door then immediately put my phone on do not disturb. I text my mom and tell her I’m going to nap then I go take a shower and scrub the batting cage and bad feelings off of me. I scrub extra where Jessica touched my arm. I feel super dramatic and immature, but this sucks.

My 16th birthday and Tank won’t be there. He’ll be off in a tuxedo and probably take one of those stupid hummer limos to Jessica’s cotillion. I don’t even know what all that entails, but it sounds fancy and I never ever want to go to one.

I dry myself off and walk to my bedroom with the towel around my waist. Mom’s texted me back. She knows that me saying I’m going to nap means I am not feeling well.

Scary Momster: Are you sick? What’s wrong honey? What happened?

[ Missed Call from Scary Momster ]

[ Missed Call from Scary Momster ]

[ 1 New Voicemail from Scary Momster ]

Me: Life sucks and I’m not even going to have a birthday party because Tank is going to a cotillion with some ugly girl and they’ll get married and have eight ugly babies.

Scary Momster: I’m sorry, baby. I’m planning on surprising you with a trip back home that weekend for fireworks and a party with your friends. I guess he won’t be coming with us. I’m so sorry, love. I wish I could make it better.

Me: Thanx, mo-mo. Gonna lie down and watch some stuff. Love you.

Scary Momster: Love you too. I’ll pick up Chinese food and we’ll watch a movie and talk about evil girls and why they are hurting my sweet baby boy. :)

Me: That! All of that! 100!

I put in my airpods and see that Tank has sent me two texts. I don’t open them. I’m being a baby and I know it. I watch clips of animals doing funny stuff until I fall asleep.

+++

For the second time that day I wake up to find Tank hovering over me. This time he’s sitting on my bed and rubbing my back. I’m on my side hugging the pillow with my phone propped up beside me. I look up and he’s giving me those sad puppy eyes.

“I should have known your birthday. Total fail. I’m sorry.” He looks so upset with himself.

“It’s fine. My mom’s planning a party for me in California that weekend anyway. She says I can invite someone else,” I tell him. She didn’t say that, but I want him to be as hurt as I am. I am a huge baby. I am not sorry about it.

“You were going to take me? That would be awesome!” he says. His face does a quick switch from sad to happy then down to crestfallen when he realizes I’ll be off without him.

“Maybe Aaron will want to go,” I say and instantly realize I’ve gone too far. His jaw clenches and I can hear him grind his teeth. 

“Please don’t,” he whispers. He pushes his fingers through my hair then swipes his thumb across my forehead. “Please. I know you’re pissed at me and I am the worst person on earth right now, but please not him.”

I roll onto my back and stare up at him. We look at each other, not sure how to fix this.

“Hayden,” he inhales like the word is stuck in his throat. I reach over and put a hand on his abs. I pull him over me. He falls against my chest and laughs.

I put my hand on his bottom and push him against me. He throws his right leg over me and then pushes up to straddle me. His knees are on either side of my lap and he’s bent forward over me. He leans in for a kiss but I push on his chest to block him. This is not a kissable moment.

He grabs my hands and we start to struggle. It breaks the heavy mood and soon we’re wrestling and laughing like two friends. He finally pins my arms above my head. He’s smaller than me, but pretty strong when he needs to be.

“How are you this strong?” I laugh.

“You forget I have two big brothers who like to wrestle! You can’t win this” He laughs.

I let him pin me. I give up. He freezes there, holding my hands above my head against the pillows. He looks down at me and we stop laughing.

We stare at each other silently for the longest time. The tension builds between us and suddenly I feel myself on the edge of tears. I realize I’m not even mad at him. I’m just profoundly sad and this sucks. I don’t even know this girl and it feels like he’s choosing her over me. I’m losing to her and I realize I will always lose to a girl because he can’t be himself.

It’s so effed up because finally a guy I love loves me back and he’s choosing a girl over me.

“Don’t cry, Hayden. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to do here.” He shakes his head.

“Choose me… pick me… please don’t pick her. Pick me. Please…” The words come out choked and I hate how whiny it sounds. I don’t want to beg him, but here I am.

“I’m not picking her, but it’s a big thing and she’s been one of my best friends since we were little. My parents are excited for this. My mom likes getting dressed up and all the pictures and everything… If I don’t go and support her… Everyone will know. If I go with you instead, then she’ll hate me and everyone will know that I’m…” He stops himself. He can’t say the word.

“Gay? Is that so bad? Is it too awful to even say? I’m gay and it’s ok. People got over it and look at me now!” I whisper up to him. I’m trying to make it easier for him, but I sound so hoarse.

“I can’t be gay, Hayden. I mean I can’t be out about it. You know I love you. You see what you do to my body and my heart. You’re all I think about. No one else feels this good, but I can’t be out. I don’t have that option in my menu. My world is not programmed to accept that option… If I try to put it in then the whole thing will blow up. Everything will change. I don’t have that option. Please understand.” He shakes his head.

He lays it out so clearly and it hits me that this thing between us will never see the light. How could it? In what world will he chose me over the approval of his community?

I don’t know what to say to him. He waits so patiently for me to respond. It’s like I’m pinned under a frozen statue. His eyes search my face for a response. Inside my head I’m watching a movie of our future. Me being his hidden sidekick doesn’t play out well. It hurts.

“Please say something. Say anything. Hit me or kiss me or… please, baby,” he begs.

I struggle to get my hands free. My arms feel numb. He has them pinned so tightly. This isn’t fun anymore and I want him off of me. I try to push against him, but he doesn’t get it. He doesn’t understand this isn’t ok for me and for some reason I lose my voice entirely.

“No! I’m not letting go until you say something. You have to say something. Please, baby,” he says and he won’t let go of me.

I struggle some more. Somehow he thinks this is ok. I keep trying to get free and then finally I feel the tears slide down my cheek.

“Just say something! Seriously, Hayden! Please!” He keeps me pinned and it’s like I don’t have the strength to push him off. I feel my cheeks soak with tears and it’s like I’m locked inside my body.

Then something changes . His eyes turn to horror as it dawns on him what he’s doing, what he’s making me feel. Maybe he was trapped in his body too. He’s suddenly repulsed by his own actions.

“Sorry, sorry. Oh my God I’m so sorry, Hayden. We were playing and then you started crying and I should have let you go… Oh fuck, Hayden. That was bad. That wasn’t me! I’m so sorry.” He backs off of me and lets go of my wrists. He falls back on his bottom and sits there stunned on my mattress.

“Get out,” I whisper and roll off the bed. 

I get to my feet and walk to my bedroom door where he had closed it. I’m standing there in a pair of sleep shorts and looking all kinds of pathetic with my cheeks soaked. I open my door and bow my head. I can’t look at him.

“Please, Hayden. I love you. Please don’t make me go,” he begs and I don’t hear him moving. I stay there with the door open.

If I open my mouth again I’ll throw up or just disintegrate into a sniffling mess of tears and snot. There’s no pretty way out of this. 

He doesn’t say anything else. It feels like a long time but finally I hear him shuffle off my bed. I watch as his tennis shoes and perfect calves walk over to me. He pauses next to me for a minute but he doesn’t try to touch me.

I start to shake and he makes this groaning sound from deep inside his chest. I wrap my arms across my chest to try and stop but I’m shaking and it’s bad.

I see his feet disappear and then come back and I feel him put my blanket around my shoulders. He tries to secure it but I step away and he lets go and it falls to the floor.

“I’ll go,” he says in a voice that sends chills up my spine. I’ve never heard a human being who sounded so defeated. I worry about him… but I can’t move my feet. 

He turns and leaves and my brain gives me the green light to fall apart. 

+++

I wait until I hear the front door close and then I slide down to the floor and let the tears flow. I sit on the floor for a minute just letting it out and then my room feels strangely awful. Bad things happened here and I need to get out.

I get to my feet, grab a fistful of tissues from the bathroom and then go curl up on my mom’s bed. Nothing has ever felt this bad.

+++

Mom comes home early and I hear her calling my name. 

I don’t call back to her, but for some reason I reach up and bang on the wall above her bed. I hear her drop something and run. Her face appears in the doorway and I watch as it turns from scared to concerned. She comes over and sits next to me and rubs my back.

“You’re really upset about this.” She’s thinking it’s just about Tank missing my non-existent Arizona birthday party.

I tell her everything. I’m never good at keeping things secret.

“Oh my God! This is not ok! This is not ok!” She calls out then gets off her bed and disappears into her bathroom.

I hear her rustle around and then I hear my dad’s voice. She has him on speaker while she’s doing something in the bathroom. I hear her telling him everything that happened and his reactions are so angry, so primal protector. 

She comes back out wearing a sweatshirt and workout shorts with my dad on facetime.

“He’s hurt, Ali! That kid hurt him,” mom says. “Help him.”

“My little one, I am so sorry,” Dad looks at me from the phone screen as mom sets it up on the side table. It’s dark there, he must have been sleeping. He looks tired.

“Does he hurt you? Show me where he hurts my boy,” he demands. He talks to me like I’m a five year old and right now that comforts me because I’m not ok and I need my daddy.

“No. I’m fine and we didn’t do anything… He got scared and I got scared and I wish he could be himself and be open. I wish he could be open about liking me.” I hug one of mom’s 30 pillows and look at him.

“I am sorry you hurt,” dad says.

“I love you, dad. You may not be perfect, but you love me for who I am and never ask anything more,” I tell him. His lips crack a smile and his chest puffs up in pride.

“I am best father ever. Is not easy to be this great, but I love my son. I love my gay son,” he says. “And I hate that he hurts. I hate that I can not take his pain.”

Mom gets on the bed and lays behind me and spoons me even though I’m taller than her.

“Your mother will take you home for the birthday and your friends will come to celebrate your 16th year. Yes? You will see all your old friends and be happy, yes?” he asks. I nod.

“Yes, sir. I’ll be ok,” I tell him. “Thank you.”

“Of course! You are our boy. You will wake me whenever you need your baba to be there for you. Ok? There is nothing I will not do to protect my child. I am working to come home soon. I hate this to be so far from my most important treasures.” Dad shakes his head.

My parents may not be perfect, but they are the best when it comes to letting me know I am loved and I am ok and this hurting isn’t just in my head and I am allowed to be sad.

We hang out in mom’s bed with dad on the phone. He lays back in his own bed and we get lost talking about a road trip we took up to Lake Tahoe two years back.

+++

Eventually we let dad go back to sleep and we eat the now cold Chinese food mom brought home. She offers to warm it up, but cold noodles are pretty good when life sucks. 

We watch a movie and she shows me the place she booked for my party and life feels ok, not good, but ok.

I sleep on the couch. Normally my mom would make me get up and go to my bed. She knows I’m not going back there, at least not tonight. She brings me a blanket from her closet and covers me with it. I’m so tired, but I just lay there and listen to every creak and beep of the dark house.

+++

When I wake up, my mom is making pancakes. I open my eyes to the smell of them and things didn’t feel so bad.

“Come sit with me,” she calls when she hears me stirring. I go to the kitchen bar and sit on one of the leather and wood saddle stools from our old house.

“Sybil called this morning. She wanted to know if you were up for church today. I told her you weren’t feeling well. She said her son was upset too and that he felt awful for missing your birthday. Pretty convenient he told her you two were arguing over your birthday and NOT that he forced himself on you!” Mom begins to rant.

“Mom, he didn’t force himself. We were wrestling and having fun and things just went too far. I got creeped out before he did. It doesn’t mean…” I don’t want to say the words.

“I told her we need to have lunch tomorrow.” Mom dishes up two pancakes and some bacon for me. She takes a bite of the bacon before putting it on my plate.

“Mom you can NOT tell her! She doesn’t know he’s gay and it would ruin his life!” I plead.

“His life is not my concern. I’m in charge of your life and I’ll be damned if I see one more boy who hurts someone, and then gets out of it because he has a bright future or a good family. You have a bright future and I’ll fight like hell to protect it!” Mom is fuming. 

“Please, mom. It wasn’t like that!” I search her face for pity. 

“I don’t know what I’ll tell her but she’s raising a son who thinks he has to hide who he is… and he thinks it is ok to hold someone down when they’re crying. That’s effed, Hayden! What if her other boys feel the same? Would it be different if you had been a girl? What if this is what they do and we could have prevented it from happening to someone else?” When mom gets set on something, it turns into a full bulldozing crusade. I jump desperately to calm her down.

“I don’t know, mom, but he shouldn’t have to pay for all that. Just please don’t say anything about him and me. Please!” Part of me wishes I’d not told her, but if I hadn’t I would be locked in my room right now eating a hole through my stomach.

“Do you remember that time when you were five and your dad and I took you to that art exhibit in West Hollywood?” She asks. 

I take a bite of pancake and shrug. No bells are rung, but this story sounds like it’ll calm her down. 

“You were little… So there we were walking up San Vicente [vuh-SEN-tay] and passing that new park by all the gay bars. Oh it was a beautiful afternoon! We stopped and bought you this helium balloon from a vendor. You just wanted one red one and we tied it to your wrist. You demanded a red one! You looked SO cute! So so cute!” She begins to go off topic.

“Mom, no tangents!” I laugh.

“Right. So your dad is kneeling down tying the balloon to your wrist and you’re singing that stupid song from that PBS show we hate. This older couple, two guys probably in their mid-forties, walks by. They were both muscled and hot and I remember thinking how handsome they were. They stopped right near us and they turned and kissed each other. They were so sweet,” she says.

“Woah!” I perk up. I have zero recollection of this event, but mom makes the old guys sound hot. 

“Little five year old you looked up at them and yelled ‘No! No Kissing! Yuck!’ Your father and I were mortified. The men looked at us like we were evil bigots or something! We were so embarrassed! You were always saying the worst thing in public!” Mom clutches her shirt.

“That’s horrible!” I yell.

“No, wait! It gets better. The men just stood there looking evil at us, but then you did the funniest thing. You pointed at them again and yelled ‘They’re kissing like you and daddy do! I hate when you kiss daddy!’ And then we all laughed. You weren’t grossed out by them kissing, you were grossed out by kissing period! We explained loudly that two men kissing was just like mommy and daddy and perfectly normal!” Mom laughs like a maniac.

“That’s a weird story mom,” I laugh with her.

“Well those two men invited us to brunch on them that morning. It was at the swankiest place up Sunset and it turned out they owned a row of clubs. I have pictures of you falling asleep in their lap after you ate! You still had that stupid balloon floating above their heads! They were ready to adopt you and we were ready to let them! You were a real brat back then!” Mom brings her plate to sit next to me.

“That would have been something! I could have been LA royalty!” I think about the childhood I could have had with them, but then decide my parents aren’t so bad.

“Yeah, well. You get what you get, kid. You’re stuck with us! The point is that we never raised you to hide from the world or be ashamed of loving who you love. We never tried to paint you as something you weren’t. I mean we did push music on you, but you have such a gift! You’re really blessed with that.” She stuffs half a pancake into her mouth. My mom is one classy lady.

“But Tank doesn’t have that. It’s not fair and it sucks, but it is what it is. We can’t just go in and blow things up.” I look at her and hope to God she doesn’t go and ruin things for the Kemptons.

“Ok, fine. I’ll see how things develop when I have lunch with her tomorrow. She’s really not the kind of person who would hate her kid for being gay. I mean she wouldn’t be happy about it, but she’d deal with it. We had gay kids in our school! She even hung out a little with one. This kid named Levi Bensen. She had a crush on him and it broke her heart when she found out Levi was in love with a Jonathan! Can you imagine! She cried. I remember we ate a whole half gallon of ice cream that night!” Mom gets lost on memory lane.

“You had gay kids in your high school? For real? They were out?” I ask.

“Yeah! Um it was the 1990s not the 1890s! We had P-FLAG and pride parades here in Phoenix. Tempe [tem-PEE] even had a gay mayor! And a gay bookstore up in Melrose! I forget the name, but it was a fancy place with a coffee shop, that was before Starbuck’s came in so there were real independent places! This one had candles and incense and a nice little bakery!” She laughs.

“You went there?” I am learning a lot about my mother.

“Oh sure! I was getting into crystals and tarot cards back in those days! Can you imagine? It was a neat place and there were boys your age just hanging around waiting to talk to each other. I remember thinking how nice it must be to have a place like that when everywhere else in the world made you hide who you were. Those places are mostly gone now. You kids have the internet. Now it’s just porn! porn! porn!” She waves her fork around like pornography is all around us.

“Porn is pretty great,” I joke.

“You better not even!” She starts but I put a hand up to tell her I’m kidding.

“You know your dad had a boyfriend in college!” Mom laughs like it’s hilarious. 

“Dad was gay?” I scream. 

“No! Are you kidding? Your father loves his ladies. But he had a guy who hung all over him. He’s quite the handsome man and back then your dad was stunning with those big brown eyes and long lashes and those muscles.” Mom looks up and closes her eyes in a happy sigh. 

“Gross, mom! That’s my father!” I play smack her arm. 

“You better believe he’s your father! I fought like hell for that sperm!” She is enjoying herself entirely too much. 

“MOM! GROSS!” I butt my head against her shoulder. 

“Well this kid was obsessed with your father. And you know Arab men are not afraid of touching each other in a friendly way. It’s not the same type of toxic masculinity we have here. It’s toxic, but touching and hand holding is common amongst friends! So your father thought nothing about it until the guy tried to go further! Oh your father was horrified! It was hilarious!” She breaks down in tears from laughing so hard. 

“He’s a good dad. I’m glad you picked him.” She puts her head against mine and we both sit there missing him. It sucks having him across the world. 

“Listen, Hayden. I’m scared for you. Seeing your little face so broken last night. I thought he’d raped you. I thought to myself, ‘Here we go, Lisa! Your kid has been violated. Let’s go down the checklist and get him to a hospital then a counselor then the police.’ You don’t know what goes through a mother’s mind when she sees her kid like that. If you honestly think I can just smile and pretend this didn’t happen…” She drags her soapbox out and gets ready for another speech.

“Please, mom. Just let him be. You were there for me and I feel better and I don’t think I’ll be in that position again. You did your part, ok?” I squeeze her hand.

“We’ll see what happens,” she says and I know I’ve pushed the point as far as she will allow. She isn’t going to budge on this. She will do what she will do. 

She’s always been clear that mom means mom, not friend or pier. She says her first job is to make sure I am safe, prepared for life, and don’t end up a delinquent. I close my eyes and hope for the best. 

+‘+’+ We all have a Hunger +‘+’+

https://youtu.be/5GHXEGz3PJg

Chapter 11- Hayden + Aaron

“Can I come in? It’s 110 degrees out here, and for some reason Tank thinks I’m the only one you’ll listen to!” Aaron is sweating through his t-shirt when I open the door.

“He sent you? Tank sent you?” I ask and wave him inside.

“Yep. He called last night and sounded like someone had beat him up pretty bad. I don’t think he’s ever called me. My parents were shocked! Your house is so cute! Your mom has serious style!” He follows me into the kitchen.

“Grab what you want, but the wine is my mom’s and she’ll notice if even a drop is gone,” I tell him this as I open the fridge.

“Ho dude! You have soda pop? Definitely not Mormons! This is forbidden in my house.” He squeals and grabs one of mom’s coke zeros.

“It’s just soda, nothing to bust a nut over,” I joke. Aaron shoots me a glare then pushes his bleached hair out of his pretty eyes. 

“How are you doing? He told me what went down. He feels awful, Hayden. He said you’ll probably never talk to him again. He thinks he seriously hurt you. Did he?” Aaron looks at me from behind his treasured can of soda.

“I’m ok. It hurts that he can’t ever be out… and missing my birthday because of it! That was like a big slap in the face.” I shake my head and pick at a loose thread on my shirt.

“That sucks. He did mention a free trip to California for your birthday? Hmm? Does that include your newest gay best friend? I am very good on road trips. I eat very little and I hardly ever need to pee!” Aaron fishes for an invite.

It’s good to see him like this. He’s happy and goofy. He reminds me of Jackson, the guy I dated who was too gay for my dad’s approval. I wonder if I’ll see him at my birthday.

“He begged me not to take you. I think he thinks you and me would end up doing things!” I laugh like this is completely ridiculous.

“Well since I’m here in an official capacity as Tank’s ambassador I should probably agree, but dude!! Cali!!” He jumps like he just won a new car.

“Ok but you can’t call it Cali, only tourists say that. It’s a dead giveaway you’re a total Zonie!” Zonie is the word people in SoCal use for the Arizona tourists that crap up our beaches.  They’re as bad as the 909’ers (people from inland California who everyone in Orange County blames for crime and general debauchery).

“No Zonie here! I’ll be on my best behavior. When do we leave?” Aaron demands.

“In two weeks, but you have to agree to some ground rules!” I have to prep him.

“Anything! I’ll be your personal birthday assistant! I even have bow ties! Do you want rainbow or classic black?” Aaron lights up like a kid and it makes him so cute.

“Bow ties are excellent. You wear what you want! Rule 1 is don’t piss off my mom. Just remember to nod and agree with whatever she says. If Lisa claims it’s a Tuesday you do not argue. You nod and say, ‘yep! Tuesday! Best day of the week!’”

“Lisa is goddess. Got it!” He holds up two fingers like he’s a boy scout.

“Rule 2 is be yourself. Don’t be vulgar or anything but you can totally rainbow out. Don’t hold back. My friends will like you if you are authentic. Seriously. No hiding. No Mesa undercover. No blending in with the Mormons or straights. You be you. If anyone gives you trouble I’ll cancel them hard. Got it?” I want Aaron to have the best weekend of his life.

If I’m going to be miserable and dejected from Tank withdrawal then the least I can do is make sure Aaron gets one long weekend to be what he feels.

“Twink’s honor!” He holds up two fingers again.

“This sucks, dude. I mean not you! I’m happy you can go with us, but it’s my birthday and I get dumped. I thought the next time I got to go home I’d have Tank there… or at least here waiting for me.” I shake my head and pull the bowl of grapes out of the fridge.

“Well he is waiting for you,” Aaron starts. “He thinks he blew it too hard. He thinks you’ll never talk to him again. From the way he described it… I can’t blame you. I’m sorry. That sounds like it sucked hardcore!” He grabs a grape from me.

“I don’t know. My mom had lunch with his on Monday. She wouldn’t say what happened. Did she put him? Is he ok?” I am out of the loop here.

“Tank’s mom didn’t tell him much. She said he was a jerk to you when he came over and she was mad at him and wanted him to come apologize but she didn’t get specific. I’m guessing he didn’t get outed or she definitely would have mentioned that! I think gay outranks jerk on the parental concern scale!” Aaron shrugs. 

“I guess so. I just hate this. It feels like my heart was ripped out of my chest. I mean we are so good together! But he wants to hide it. I don’t want to live that way.” I chew on a grape and it tastes like Tank. Everything tastes like him, smells like him, feels like him since Saturday when everything went to hell.

“I’m sorry. He’s a good guy. He just can’t overcome who they want him to be. I didn’t have a choice. From Kindergarten the other kids knew I was not one of them. I tried so hard to fit in, but every time I opened my mouth or even moved it was like a bat signal to them. It just wasn’t going to work. So I dropped it” He shakes his head like he’s over telling his story.

“What did your parents do? Do they accept you?” I ask. I feel strangely protective over him. Aaron feels like a little brother.

“They’re cool. They don’t know what to make of it, but we’re not super mormon like Tank’s family. I had to go to counseling at the church and all, but he told them to just love me. The church is changing. As long as I don’t bring a guy home or talk about sex stuff they mostly leave me alone.” He pops another grape in his mouth and sips his soda like it’s expensive liquor.

“We should adopt you! If they ever kick you out, you know you can come directly here and my mom will totally let you stay with us!” I push the grapes towards him. He seems hungry and he’s severely thin.

“Stop doing that! Christ! From day one you treat me like I’m some abandoned street kid! My parents love me and we just kind of skate around that. They know that one day I’ll fall in love and I know they will adjust and be ok with it. My mom even points out cute guys sometimes when we’re out just the two of us. Ok? For real, Hayden! I’m not your charity case!” Aaron pushes the grapes back towards me.

“I didn’t think that. Really!” I lie. “I blew up at Tank pretty bad for making fun of you. I just thought you were being bullied by everyone so I got all protective. I guess I got the wrong idea.” I sound a little defensive here.

“I know. You’re nice and thanks for that. It’s cool. They kind of ice me out but otherwise they leave me alone mostly. I have friends though and life is good,” Aaron insists.

“Why don’t you get along with Tank?” I ask.

“You don’t know? If he didn’t tell you then I’m CERTAINLY not going to tell you!” Aaron laughs.

“What? No way! Now you have to tell me! Something happened? I thought it was just him hating you for being out and proud!” I lean across the counter and look at Aaron with prying eyes.

“Let’s just say we both kind of figured out our sexuality at the same time and maybe he still thinks I will expose him. I won’t, but I could,” he smirks.

“You guys did it? For real? We haven’t even done it! We just kissed and stuff.” I feel the twist of a jealous knife in my chest.

“I wouldn’t say did it. I mean I definitely know what he’s packing down there, but I’ve never touched him anywhere he’d need to talk about in court!” Aaron says. I believe him. He could have bragged here or made me feel awful, but he’s being genuine.

“Have you done that with any of the guys here?” I don’t know why I ask this, but I do.

“Court stuff? No, never. The rule is: I get to go to heaven so long as I never actively do anything gay with anyone. So let’s just say I’m still fine for the heavenly gates. When I find someone worthy of my eternal damnation though, I’ll jump on it so fast!” He throws up his hands and tosses back his head towards the ceiling like he’s calling his creator.

We bust out laughing so hard at that and I admit that I’m in the same position, minus the eternal damnation stuff since we’re not religious.

“What’s all this laughing?” mom asks as she surprises us from the doorway. I hadn’t heard her drive into the garage. “And who is this?”

I jump up and give her a hug and introduce her to Aaron. She remembers him from the Father’s Day bbq at the Kemptons, but forgot his name.

“I kinda told him he was invited to my birthday weekend,” I confess.

“Well our car seats six and he will make #3. You don’t drink, smoke, or curse, do you?” mom asks with fake seriousness.

“No, ma’am, I quit,” Aaron jokes and gets a laugh out of mom.

“Perfect! As long as your parents say it’s ok and I’ll need to meet them. But welcome aboard!” She sets down her workbag and walks into the kitchen.

I tell her I’ll make dinner and she happily abandons the pan she was about to grab. She goes to rest and change and I recruit Aaron to help me. He calls his parents and tells them he’s staying here for dinner.

We’re halfway through the salad prep when he suddenly announces that he was supposed to call Tank and give him a progress update on our talk.

“I totally forgot. He begged me to make amends with you and get you to talk to him. You want to talk to him?” Aaron holds up his phone.

“Nah. I better not. It was a hard weekend. I’m not ready.” I spread my hands in front of me and shake my head.

“I get it.” He goes towards the dining table and calls Tank. I listen as he explains that he’s still here and staying for dinner. He tells him I’m ok and that I said I got dumped. He tells him I’m not ready to talk to him, then goes on to tell him he’s going to California with us. That gets him hung up on. He’s so matter of fact about it and honest.

“Tank will be in his backyard about 9 if you change your mind. He sounds really sad. Maybe go hear him out so you two can move on somehow,” Aaron says when he turns back to me.

“Cool.” I shrug but inside I’m freaking out. Mom hasn’t exactly forbidden me from talking to him, but yesterday when she got home after lunch with Mrs. Kempton she told me we should cool things for awhile. So cool is the only response I have right now.

Aaron does an awesome job with mom at dinner. He asks her stories about what it was like for her growing up here in the 90s and 00s. That is her favorite topic, and she quickly adores him.

+++

At 9:00 PM mom is yawning and ready for bed. Aaron left an hour before so it’s just me, her, and the end of a reality show where they’re redoing an old house for a needy family. Once the family sees the reveal and everyone cries and thanks the show for changing their life, mom downs the last sip of wine in her glass and announces she is off to wind down for the night.

She kisses my forehead, goes to make sure the locks are all set for the night, puts her wine glass in the dishwasher, and pads off to her room.

I look at the sliding glass door and wonder if Tank is watching me from his side of the fence. I start flipping channels hoping I’ll find something that distracts me.

Drag race? Rerun.

News? Nope

Weather? It’s hot. It’s Phoenix. It’ll be hot until Christmas.

I look at the clock and it’s only 9:02. Seriously? All that took only two minutes? Time is never my friend.

I turn off the TV and then the lights. Maybe if Tank thinks we’ve gone to sleep then he’ll go away and I won’t be fighting every muscle in my body as it tries to drag me towards him like a super magnet.

Every urge in me wants to run out there and pull him over the fence. It’s a horrific war inside me and the side that wants me to just be with him however I can is putting up a valiant effort.

I creep over to the sliding door and look out at the backyard. We have this covered patio and it blocks the view of the back fence so I can’t see if he’s there.

I slowly slide open the back door, just a crack. I listen for his breathing but of course that is not possible from across the yard. I slide out the door quietly and then close it behind me. I tiptoe to the edge of the patio and his house has a few lights on. His room at the top is dark though.

I step out into the yard but it’s mostly gravel so there’s a little crunch on that first step.

“Hayden?” a voice calls from behind the fence. It’s him.

“Nah dog, that Hayden kid moved,” I say in my most masculine voice. It’s met with a burst of laughter from behind the fence and I creep closer.

“I miss you so much,” he whispers when he hears me close the distance between us.

“I… too,” I left a blank in the middle of that sentence, but filled it with a deep breath.

“This feels weird talking through the fence,” he says but I don’t invite him to hop over.

“Like a confessional. Tell me your sins, my Tank boy,” I don’t know why I am trying to make jokes here. I almost never pick appropriate reactions. He laughs but then gets quiet.

“I’m so sorry I hurt you. Did I break your arm?” he asks through the fence.

“No. It’s fine,” I sit on the edge of a large decorative pot the previous owners left.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you. I don’t even know what happened. You started to wrestle with me and it seemed to cheer you up so I got into it and you were laughing and having fun and then… It was like I woke up from a dream and discovered a nightmare. Your face, baby. You looked so scared like you thought I was going to kill you or something and I felt this just overwhelming shame! It was horrible!” He makes this sniffling sound and I know he’s crying.

Everything inside me wants to jump over the fence and hug him.

“No. You didn’t. I’m fine. I just got so sad thinking about us and how it can’t work and… It sucks, Tank. I want you so bad and everything about us feels so right. But I can’t be your secret. I want to. I seriously want to, but I can’t. I’m supposed to respect myself and love myself and being your secret is pretty much the opposite of that.” Now I’m crying too.

“Can I come over? Just to hold you?” he asks.

“My mom would freak if she found you here. Did you get in trouble with your mom? I am so sorry my mom talked to her! I’m embarrassed!” I keep my voice down in case mom hears noise coming from the backyard and decides to investigate.

“I was glad to hear something. I wanted to know anything I could about you. She’s fine. Mom feels bad that I hurt your feelings. She said it was a no win situation and Jessica has been my friend since forever. I totally wish I could go to California with you and this never happened. I wish I could take it all back. I wish I could fix this.” Tank needs a sky full of stars to wish upon.

“It sucks, but it was bound to happen. Right? I mean I don’t fit in your life. I never will. There is never going to be a situation where your family says ‘Hey! You love Hayden! That’s great!’ So maybe it was for the best it happened early on. Maybe someday we can even be friends! In a distant future,” I laugh. I don’t know why I laugh. It is definitely not funny.

“That sounds so awful. I can’t just be your friend. I can’t watch you date some other guy and fall in love and have to pass you in the hall everyday and… This is a nightmare,” he says.

“It’s the same for me seeing you out in a tux with Jessica and your perfect wholesome life. You’ll marry her and get your own peach stucco home and fill it with cute babies because you’re the hottest guy on earth so I’m sure they will be too,” I assure him.

“Please let me come over there. I really need to hold you. Please, Hayden,” Tank begs.

I stand up and climb on top of the pot and pop my head over his fence.

He stares up at me with those beautiful emerald eyes that shine in the moonlight. They’re red from his tears and I see he has his arms crossed; holding his chest for comfort.

He puts his hands on the fence and lifts himself up until our eyes meet. We’re inches apart and his breath smells like minty gum. I love minty gum.

“Can I just?” He leans forward and our lips touch. I feel the warmth of him spread through me and my heart does flip flops in my chest.

It’s a quick kiss and then he pulls back and looks at me like he’s scared he went too far again. He didn’t. I sigh and pull back from the fence then nod my head for him to hop over. He pulls himself up with his crazy monkey upper body strength and catapults over the fence. I hop off the pot and stand next to him. He reaches for my hand and laces his fingers between mine. His skin feels electric on mine.

“Why are you so hot? It’s not fair. Why did you get all the hot? Why the hot couldn’t be spread to others?” I ask.

“I didn’t get half as much as you did. You sucked it all up. You know somewhere out there two ugly boys are cursing us.” he smirks.

“Don’t be cute. I can’t hate you when you’re cute.” I shake my head and bite my lip. I want to take him right there and roll around on the hard, sunbaked gravel.

“I could never hate you. Not in a million years. There will never be anyone who makes me feel like this. Never,” he swears.

“What about Jessica?” I ask.

“Are you serious? We are friends. We grew up together. She’s like a sister and she’s a girl. You’d really like her if you gave her a chance!” He pushes back my hair. He loves my hair.

“You want me to sleep with Jessica?” I smile.

“No! I don’t even want to sleep with Jessica. I just mean she’s a good person. Notice she never texts me? I mean you and I were hanging out 12 hours every day. Did you ever see a text from her? She’s not into me like that… I’m not into her like that.” He pushes his nose against my cheek and I feel his tongue on my earlobe. It sends a shock through me.

“What about Colby?” I keep pushing him like I want him to get angry. He doesn’t

“Colby? Nah. I don’t know what’s going on there, but it definitely isn’t anything on my end.” He rubs his nose into my ear like a dog. His lips hit my earlobe and he starts to suck on it.

“It’s definitely a thing on his end!” I let him push against me. Our pointy parts rub against each other and just keep getting pointier… I know this is not headed to a good place.

“Who cares? It’s you, baby. You’re Hayden my BAEdyn . No one else getting in here.” His arms slide around me and I put my chin on his shoulder. I close my eyes and let myself soak in his warmth knowing full well it will only hurt later.

“You’re my BAEnk ? What does Bae even mean?” I laugh.

“It means before anyone else. Like… I put you before anyone else, and I will. I promise you I will make this up to you. I love my family and I love you and somehow those things just have to work together. Ok? Please be patient with me, Hayden… Haybee

Baby .“ He slides his body against mine and makes me feel like I’m on the edge of a really good sneeze.

“ Huhh, “ I gasp and lose my words.

“Baby… I’ve had this crazy stomach ache since Saturday in your room. There’s just this big pit there and it’s going to stay empty and hurting until I can put you back inside it. You’re the only one who fits there. I need you, baby.” He slides his hands down my back and cups my bottom. He rubs against me and I lose all sense.

“ Yeah ?“ I gasp when his lips find this spot on my neck that makes my body go weak.

“ Yeah ,“ he answers. I want so badly to believe him and forget all reality here.

I don’t know what I’m going to do. I don’t know where to go from here. I don’t know how to make this work, but I literally can’t tear myself away from him right now. I can barely breathe and my legs feel weak and… he’s holding me up, holding me against his chest.

His arms feel so strong like they really could protect me from everything else that is destined to separate us. My body lights up at his touch, his hold, his breath, his lips.

“You taste so good,” he slides his tongue back and forth along the side of my neck while his lips do this little dance along my skin.

We stand there for the longest time just slowly rocking back and forth against each other as if a slow love song is playing in the background. It isn’t, but his body feels so good against mine.

We lose track of the world until our bodies start to shudder against each other. I close my eyes and groan this long note. I open them and look up at the stars. I gasp to recover my breath and I know there is no way I can ever fight this.

+‘+’+‘+’+‘+’+‘+’+’+

“I make no promises, I can’t do golden rings

But I’ll give you everything, tonight

Magic is in the air, there ain’t no science here

So come get your everything, tonight “

[There should be a GIF or video here. Update the app now to see it.]

Chapter 12- A Beautiful Boy

I keep replaying that night; sneaking out to the backyard and making up with Tank. Neither of us know where to go from there and for the next week we pretend like nothing ever happened and everything between us is perfectly fine.

His mother was happy to ignore the entire ugly situation of me fleeing her home and her son feeling like crap for not being able to attend my birthday.

My mother does not go that route. She wants to know what happened and of course I can’t tell her that we pretty much did everything you can with your clothes on in the darkness of our backyard. Instead, I tell her we made up, decided to chill, and I am going to have my birthday in California with Aaron and all my friends.

The dinners together are awkward. With the Kemptons now living directly behind us, mom and I have a standing invite for dinner. Tank and I sit next to each other pretending like we’re just good friends.

Under the table we feel hands on thighs, the rub of elbows, and other desperate attempts to silently claw at each other.  Most times he just keeps his knee pressed against my leg. He pushes in against me every few seconds just to remind me that he is there, needing me.

Daytime is the worst. Tank is busy with Jessica and the cotillion preparations. I’m still volunteering at the thrift store and most mornings Tank drops in to drop off a cup of his mom’s oat drink.

He stays and helps me until Jessica sends her first text of the day demanding he go get measured for something or practice something or go with her to pick out something. I love working there with him and it feels like a fresh wound every time Jessica pulls him away.

It’s like every morning he enjoys me then chooses her. It hurts.

It feels like they’re getting married. They’ll ride away in Tank’s beat-up Camry and carve their names in a heart on the side of the Grand Canyon or something. It feels more and more like I’m his secret.

Thursday night before mom and I pick up Aaron to head off to California, things get weirder.

It’s July 4th and the Kempton’s have us over for a BBQ. We watch the fireworks on TV and play board games; typical wholesome mormon family evening. Tank and I play nice and Mrs. Kempton even serves up a birthday cake for me. It was a nice evening all in all.

We get home though, and right as mom goes around the house turning off the lights and locking up, I get a text from Tank. I know it’s him because I set a ding and vibe pattern different from everyone else. I wait until she goes into her bedroom and closes the door before sliding it out of my pocket.

He texts me that he’s at the back fence. I go to mom’s door and hear the shower turn on so I sneak out the back slider and go for the fence.

“What’s up?” I whisper and move a planter over to our usual spot so I can climb up and look over. He’s there looking up at me. Those eyes in the moonlight make my heart pound double time.

“You’re leaving tomorrow? For real?” he asks this as if my birthday was just some giant prank.

“Yeah it’s kind of my cake day and all… July 5th,” I laugh for no reason.

“I know. I know. I just wanted to hang before you left.” He looks down and kicks at the dirt. I can see his shoulders shiver even though it’s still 100 degrees outside.

“We spent the whole evening together!” I laugh.

“I um… I got you something for your birthday. I wanted to give it to you before you leave,” he says. His voice sounds nervous.

“What is it?” I lean against the top of the fence. Above us there isn’t a cloud in the night sky and the moon reflects in his eyes when he suddenly looks up at me.

“Can I come over?” He bites his lip and knows he’s risking things here.

I nod towards my side of the fence and reach to offer my hand, but he doesn’t need it. He puts both hands on the top of the fence and easily pulls himself up. He has his backpack on. I guess my present is inside. I jump off the planter and he hops down to it then follows me towards my house.

It’s dumb sneaking around. His parents wouldn’t think anything of him being in our place and even spending the night here.

My mom would have questioned it a few days ago, but she seems to accept that we are just friends and I’m not putting my heart on the chopping block of a closeted mormon boy.

We get to the back door and he puts his hand on my lower back as I slide the glass. The house is quiet so I sneak him in through the living room and back down to my bedroom.

We stop when we get to my bedroom door. He hasn’t been in there since the incident. I look back at him, unsure if he is feeling it too. His sad eyes greet mine, but then a rustling sound from my mom’s bedroom sends us scurrying past our feelings.

I turn on my speaker and put on the tropical chill playlist I like.

“What time are you leaving?” he asks. I turn around and he’s sitting on my bed. He slips off his vans and lies back against my pillows. He looks so small, so fragile and scared. His backpack is on the floor propped against my bed.

I want to run over there and pounce on him. I want to kiss him. I want to scream at him that it’s going to be ok if he comes out and chooses me over her. I want to take him far away from here, but instead I pretend that the stack of three books on top of my dresser desperately need to find their way back to my shelf. I turn away from him and see what else needs arranging.

“Uh… 9 I guess. We have to swing by Aaron’s house. We asked him to sleep over, but his parents had some dinner thing they wanted him home for tonight.” I don’t turn to look at him.

“Cool… cool. Make sure you gas up before crossing the state line…” He starts to ramble about gas prices until I turn and look at him.

“Gotta… gas… yup,” I swallow the lump in my throat. I’ve never loved the sight of my bed so much as I do seeing Tank on it. He has his knees pulled up against his chest. Hot-muscled-jock boy hugs my pillow and flashes me the biggest puppy eyes I’ve ever seen.

“Present time!” he says. He crawls over me and grabs his backpack.

He sits up and looks at me as he unzips it then looks in his bag.

“I hope it’s still alive! I should have left it unzipped for some air,” he says with a worried look.

“WHAT? Oh My God! You killed it?” I sat up with alarm and lunge for his bag. I look inside and see a stuffed animal. Tank erupts in laughter.

“Dude that was epic! You were freaked!” He holds his stomach from laughing at me too hard.

“What is this? A… monkey?” I pull out a stuffed animal. It’s a brown monkey with a party hat on. In one of his long arms he holds a small plush cupcake.

“You’re my Hunky monkey,” he says in a soft voice.

“It’s cute! I love it! Thank you!” I set the monkey in my lap and reach for the card, but his hand stops me.

“That’s for later, ok? Like I don’t know when, but not right now and not in front of anyone and don’t show your mom, ok?” Tank says as I take the card out.

“Is it dirty pics of you?” I wag my eyebrows. Tank rolls his eyes and shakes his head. He takes the monkey from my lap and makes it dance.

“Happy Cake Day Mr. Hayden. Please don’t go wild and fall in love in California without Mr. Tank, ok?” He makes the monkey talk in this creepy high pitched voice.

“No love for me. Just a sad birthday alone,” I say. The monkey stops dancing and Tank looks at me with sadness. He lies back down on the bed and hugs the monkey against his chest. I lie down too.

“I wish Jessica was born a week later or earlier or… Just some other weekend than yours. None of this would have happened and we’d be…” He starts to say. I nod.

“If we got a time machine we could make her parents have sex a few weeks sooner,” I try to lighten the mood.

“We could get Mrs. Powell some flowers and champagne!” His smile cracks through the tension on his face.

“M&M’s and a six pack!” I sit on the bed next to him and laugh.

“Maybe a gift card to Chili’s?” Tank widens his grin and those dimples make my heart flutter.

“Then we just show up and chant ‘Do it! Do it! Do it!’ until they give in to peer pressure!” I roll on my side to face him. I feel like superman when I can make him laugh.

“Mormons don’t need that much pressure to breed!” Tank jokes. He laughs then gets closer to me and chews on his bottom lip.

I reach over and palm his cheek. His lips reach out to kiss my thumb and his smile disappears. I want to slide closer to him, but I’m afraid of where we’ll end up. All I need is my mom busting in to see me doing things with Tank. She would shut this down so fast.

“I can’t believe I’m going to miss your cake day… 16, too! That’s a big one. It would be so awesome to be there and dance with you with your friends around.” Tank sighs then goes back to lipping at my thumb. I move it closer for him and he puts his teeth on it like he’s going to bite me.

“Dancing? I don’t know if we’ll be doing that!” I laugh.

“You should! The DJ your mom got sounds primo, at least he does on his soundcloud… Wait! Is it a surprise?” Tank pulls back and looks upset.

“I guess it was! My mom hasn’t said anything about the details,” I tell him.

“I ruined it! Oh, dude! I just heard her talking to my mom about the… er… nevermind.” He smacks his forehead and leans back against the pillows. “Sorry.”

“It’s cool. I’ll act all surprised anyways!” I lean towards him and kiss his blushing cheek.

He slides his arm around me and pulls me in against his chest. I put my arms around him and rest my head on his heartbeat. Lying down with him it’s easy to pretend he is taller than me. I feel smaller in his muscled hold.

I fall asleep there and don’t hear him sneak out. I wake up sometime later and my lights are off and I’m holding my pillow. He’s gone and my room feels so cold.

+++

“Your house sold last week. A young family moved in. I think they’re Chinese!” My mom’s friend Gina says. She offered her home to us for the birthday weekend. They’d met in a yoga class for pregnant ladies back when mom was carrying me and Gina was pregnant with Allison.

Allison is two weeks older than me and we’re friends but I’ll never be the gay best friend she needs. Luckily Aaron will fit that role for the weekend! The two of them bond as soon as we show up. Aaron had changed into a pink glitter shirt as soon as we crossed into California.

His outfit did raise a few eyebrows at the rural desert truck stop when we stopped to pee, but mom was intent on making sure he could be as loud and proud as he liked. She’d held his hand and marched proudly down the aisle of big rig accessories to escort him to the restroom. She would do the same for me if I had any inclination to dress that way. I don’t.

I brought the Monkey Tank gave me. It’s pushed down in my backpack so mom won’t see it. On the trip I kept reaching into my backpack to squeeze its paw or look at its little round face.

“I hope they enjoy it!” Mom put on a brave face. She was too excited about her new career and moving forward. She filled in Gina on her new venture while Aaron and I took our bags up to the guest room we’d be sharing.

“This house is killer! Where’s the ocean?” Aaron asked as we picked beds and set our things down. I gave him the one by the window since he seemed excited by the view. Their house was on the edge of a small cliff and below was the park where my dad and I used to go running.

“It’s like 20 minutes that way,” I point where I think West might be. Aaron looks disappointed. Somehow he’d pictured us living on the beach like a TV show.

“What a total hottie! Why are all the cute boys gay?” Allison says as she flips through pictures on my phone of Tank. I’d made the mistake of showing her his Instagram, snapchat, and the pics I had taken of us together. I’d made sure to hide the million birthday texts Tank had sent me all morning. We’d texted for most of the trip from Arizona.

“He’s ok… but when he starts with that jock bro attitude it gets gross.” Aaron sighs and flashes a jealous anger which she quickly picks up on. 

“Is he mean to you? I’ll kick his ass! Hayden will too! Right, Hayden?” She sits up with alarm.

“Already handled!” I assure her. I sit on the bed beside her and tell her everything. Aaron pulls up on the edge of the bed and listens to the parts he’s missed. I haven’t kept up with Allison or anyone else back here. She throws major sniffles when I get to the sad parts.

“That sucks! Why? Oh, Hayden!” She swoons dramatically to hug me as I go through sadland.

“Just how it is. I don’t know where we’re at. I really don’t,” I admit to them and to myself. It feels a lot worse when I review the whole story. Maybe I’m in deeper than I know.

Mom and Gina interrupt us and I realize I’ve lost track of the time. We have an hour before we need to be at the party and we need to get ready.

They leave Aaron and me to change in the room. I put on the black pants mom got me that have kind of a shiny leather feel. I’m buttoning up a new white shirt when I see Aaron putting on blue glitter eyeliner. It’s just a little, but it makes his eyes look pretty. He has a blue button up shirt with white pants. It’s not the extravagant outfit I’d pictured him wearing.

We finish up and he looks kind of hot with his colorful hair gelled back. It makes him look like an emo-preppy-dancer guy if that makes any sense.

“What?” he asks when he catches me looking at him in the mirror.

“Nothing… You look nice is all.” I shrug and he blushes a little.

“You expected me to do drag or something?” he laughs, but there’s a hint of need for validation in his voice. He wants to know he will fit here.

“Nah. You’re a cute guy. I’m sure Allison’s invited an assortment of guys for you to choose from!” I turn back towards him and he has his head cocked to the side with this smile that says he is ready for it.

“Maybe I’ll marry an OC boy and sail up the coast to Napa where we’ll open a little vineyard,” Aaron muses.

“Napa is inland and 16 year olds don’t open vineyards,” I remind him.

“You’re a dream-killer, Hayden. No one likes those,” he jokes. I hit him with a pillow.

“Let’s go, guys!” Mom calls from behind the door. Aaron jumps up and grabs my arm and we’re off.

+++

“Mom, we can’t afford this!” I yell at her when she pulls up to a restaurant on the waterfront in back bay Newport Beach.

“Your father paid for it. His only child’s 16th birthday was not going to be at the Tustin Chuck E. Cheese!” She smiles. She looks like her old self with a flowing white gown and her hair pinned up. This is the mom I had before everything crumbled. No one out-plans her in the party game.

A valet takes Gina’s SUV and the five of us go inside. We are led up two staircases to the rooftop bar with views of the water on one side and hills on the other. Below us there are hundreds of boats out cruising around the harbor looking for the channels that lead out to the Pacific.

The cool evening breeze hits us and Aaron’s eyes light up. I wished he was Tank and enjoying this with me. That would make this perfect.

A few of my friends are already there and I see the present table starting to fill up. There’s a DJ spinning music just loud enough for us to enjoy without disturbing the rest of the city. I make my way around the space and hug people. Everyone seems to ignore the fact that we disappeared amid a huge, newsworthy scandal.

“Oh Jason is here! Oh Aaron you have to meet him!” Allison erupts as we file out to the rooftop.

“Not Jason! He will crush Aaron!” I protest. “Is Callum here? He’s much nicer.”

“Maybe I like being crushed,” Aaron says and lets Allison pull him across the dance floor.

“Ok we have to get something out of the way before everyone gets here,” Mom says and puts her hand on my wrist when I try to follow them.

I raise an eyebrow at her.

“Your father wants to wish you a happy birthday and see your party,” she says and pulls her phone from her purse.

She opens her facetime and quickly pulls up my dad. He smiles when he sees me and I notice he’s in a large, ornate room with a huge fireplace behind him.

“Hello, little one. You are 16 today! I wish so much to be there with you. I miss you,” he says.

“I miss you too, baba. Isn’t it cool? Look! My friends came!” I pan the camera around the roof to show the growing crowd. So far 10 people came apart from us. I know it’s not huge, but it’s more than I expected since I kind of dropped everyone.

“I am so proud of you. You took care of your mother and help her through this! You are a man now.” Dad beams with pride and it warms my chest.

“It’s awesome!” I put my arm around my mom and she squeezes into the picture. It makes dad’s smile grow twice as big.

“I um… I want you to meet some… well,” dad starts to get awkward and mom ducks out of the picture. She goes back behind the table where I set the phone against a candle jar.

“What?” I ask in total confusion.

“Hayden, little one. I am here with…” Dad moves the camera farther from his face and I see an older couple next to him on a white and gold couch. I recognize them because the man looks like an older version of my dad.

“This is your grandparents, my parents. They wanted to wish you a happy sixteenth birthday. Say hello to them, ok?” Dad asks me this as if he’s just requested I lift a Toyota off his foot.

“Uhh, Hi… hello… hey,” I say and give a wave. Inside I feel a shock wave through me like an earthquake is hitting. I grip the sides of the chair and they study me.

The lady, my grandma, says something to dad in Arabic and then leans in to study me closer.

“Hayden,” the man, my grandpa, says and it sounds like “Hai-Deen.”

“That’s me!” I say back to him and his confusio melts into a smile.

The lady says something to me, but it is in dad’s language. I look over at my dad with confusion, but he offers no help.

“You do not teach him Arabic? You know no Arabic, boy?” She asks dad and then asks me.

“No, ma’am. A few words. I’m sorry,” I offer an apology, but it’s dad who is to blame. He almost never spoke it with me.

“Is not your fault! Your father shall teach you this! It is our language!” She scolds dad.

Dad says something in Arabic that I would imagine is an apology to them. She looks ready to smack his head, but then she stops and forces a smile to me.

“Oh He’s so handsome! My little hafeed! He look just like his father, but that skin is so white like his mother. He is not dark like you, Ali. My dear boy.” She clutches her hands in a fist against her heart as if holding in her joy.

“Hello, Hayden,” the man says again. “I am your gedo!”

“That means grandpa,” dad fills in the blank. “And grandma is jadi. This is your jadi.”

“Hi gedo and jadi. I’m Hayden.” I don’t know why I introduce myself again. This feels like someone took reality and swirled it in a mixer.

“He is a beautiful boy! So handsome! Isn’t he, dear? A beautiful boy?” She asks my grandpa.

“He is a beautiful boy, Aah!” Grandpa nods his head. 

“Ali should not have kept us from you. But we should have pushed harder. We are all so stubborn. Oh my boy, you look so handsome and grown. You have nice party, yes?” Grandma asks me. She turns this huge smile to me and I want to hug her.

“It’s perfect. And thank you for helping us,” I add this and see my dad nod happily.

“We will talk more, but you go enjoy your party. You can leave the camera for us to watch a bit? Is ok?” she asks. I look at my mom who is behind the camera. She nods, but looks as if she is about to melt down.

“Yes, jadi. We can do that,” I tell her. She smiles and tells me she loves me. Grandpa does too. It feels so strange. I say it back to them and she nods and shoos me to go dance with my friends.

I get up and my mom shrugs at me and waves me to go on so my grandparents can see me having fun with my friends. I walk away but keep turning back to look at her phone propped up on the table. The three of them sit back on the couch like I’m some movie they lined up to see.

I go to where Aaron is flashing a big flirty grin at Jason, but my head is spinning. I just met my grandparents and I have so many questions. I can’t focus on my friends.

I’d always assumed that both of my parents were rejected by their family for being together. My dad is Saudi and was raised muslim. He can be very conservative and traditional. My mom is pretty much the opposite of that, but they always seemed to work together.

Now that our finances were in a desperate state, dad was running back to his parents. They said dad had been the one keeping us from them. It made me wonder about mom’s family. Maybe they weren’t the problem here either.

This was a pretty big bomb to drop, especially at my 16th birthday party. Both my parents owe a big time explanation.

Chapter 13- Hayden’s Lost Boy

“Hayden, where’s your phone, baby?” mom rushes out to the patio where I’m eating breakfast with Aaron and Allison.

We were just deciding which of the three guys Aaron flirted with last night would be best for him. I was glad when he decided on Dalton over Jason. Honestly though, he didn’t have a chance with any of them since we were heading back to Arizona tomorrow.

“Here, mom. What’s up?” I ask. She looks alarmed and is holding her own phone to her ear.

“Call Tank. His parents can’t find him and they’re worried.” She darts her eyes towards her phone as if she can’t tell me the whole story here.

“Yeah, ok!” I hit him on my contacts, but without ringing it goes straight to voicemail. Now I’m worried.

I check his snapchat and it’s still just scenes from the night before. He posted videos of him and Jessica dancing. I’d replayed it more times than I should have.

“Nothing,” I say and send him a text.

“No response,” mom echoes and then nods her head with a sigh. She slides down into a chair next to me and I can hear Tank’s mom crying through the phone.

“Don’t worry, Sybil. We’ll keep trying his cell and I’ll let you know as soon as we hear anything. Oh I’m so sorry, hon. I can’t believe he’d disappear like that!” Mom sounds frantic and echoes Tank’s mom’s concern.

“Yes, ok. I will. Love you, girl,” mom says then sets her phone down.

“What happened?” the three of us scream in unison when mom leans back in her chair and sighs.

“He told them. He told them he was having feelings for boys. His dad didn’t take it so well.” Mom pushes back her hair and reaches for my glass of juice.

“Did he hit him? What the hell?” I look at her with anxious eyes as she gulps my drink.

“No, of course not. His dad said he must be joking and it wasn’t funny. Then Tank tried to tell him he wasn’t joking, but his dad said that was enough and he didn’t want to hear about it again. He told Tank he didn’t raise him to say things like that and wouldn’t stand for it in his home. Can you believe that? What an ass to tell your kid that! I wish I had been there. I would have,” mom starts to ramble but I interrupt her.

“You would have made it worse. Yelling at his dad would have made it worse,” I insist.

“Probably, but I could have gotten him out of there. Sybil didn’t know what to say to him and she just separated them until his dad could cool off and process it. She took Tank to his room and told him to get some sleep. She doesn’t know when he left, but he was gone this morning. He only took his backpack and some clothes. Poor kid, he’s just out there all alone,” Mom sniffles.

She starts crying and I lean over towards her. She puts her arms around me and pulls me in against her shoulder.

“We have to find him,” I say.

“We will. Poor kid. I’ll raise him if they don’t. I won’t have a kid being punished for being who he is. That’s so effed. What is wrong with people?” She asks the sky.

For the next two hours, the four of us plus Gina begin to scour his social media. He posts zero clues on his whereabouts and I finally tell mom we should head back towards home since there isn’t much we can do from California.

“Yes, ok. Let’s get our things together!” Mom moves into action and Aaron and I follow.

We pack our bags while Gina and Allison stuff every snack food item they own into a bag for our journey. We load up mom’s SUV and head out.

“Don’t you ever even think of doing something like this. Ok? You promise me? No matter what I do or how awful I am, you do not run away. You can’t even imagine what goes through a parent’s head when their kid is missing like this,” mom begins to lecture as we leave our old neighborhood.

“I won’t mom. I promise,” I say as she reaches over the console to grip my hand.

We head east and I keep sending texts to Tank. The texts are stuck on “delivered” so I can tell he hasn’t even read them. I wish there was a way I could locate him. His parents must be going crazy. He’d told me he could never be out and now he wasn’t just out, he was missing.

“Did I do this, mom? Is it my fault? He was really upset the night before we left.” I look out at the city fly by. Driving out of Southern California is an endless stream of exits and rooftops.

“This is not your fault and it isn’t his fault. He’s probably confused and scared and… what if he’s heading to find you? Does he know where we went? Why can’t that kid check his damned phone?” Mom waves her hands frantically as she merges onto another freeway.

As if on cue, her phone rings but it’s just Sybil again asking if we’ve heard anything. Mom’s driving so it comes through the car entertainment system.

“No, Ma’am. I’m sending him texts and we checked all his social media. Nothing. I’m so sorry,” I say. She sounds so scared and it makes my heart pound in my ear.

“I know you’ll keep trying, Hayden.” She says this and then gets quiet for a minute. Mom taps the screen thinking Sybil must have hung up, but then her voice comes back on. “I know you love him too.” She sounds like she knows there’s more to us.

“You know?” I ask and look over at my mom.

“It’s pretty obvious. His dad has no idea about you two… I should have known it would come out. I should have prepared his dad for it. I just hope he’s safe.” Her voice is choked and sad.

“We will find him. I promise you we will find him,” mom interrupts.

“His dad and brothers are out driving around looking for him… friends, batting cages, the coffee place… Where else could he have gone?” She sniffles back some tears and I look at my mom wishing we could fix this.

“What did the police say?” mom asks.

“They’re looking. I told them he might have tried to go to California to find you guys. I don’t know where else he’d go outside of Phoenix. He has cousins up in Payson, but…” she trails off.

“Well we will keep an eye out. We’re heading back to Arizona so we’ll look everywhere along the way,” mom assures her.

“The police are trying to get some thing to see where his cell signal is connected. It sounds like a TV show thing, but I hope it works. I can’t believe he left. I can’t believe he felt he had to do that. His dad will come around. We’ll work this out. I just… I don’t even know.” Mrs. Kempton starts to rant and I don’t know what to say.

“We will find him. He’ll come home and everything will be ok. We will find him.” Mom is using her therapist voice and she sounds pretty convincing.

“I gotta go, the police are beeping in!” Mrs. Kempton says.

She hangs up and we’re just driving there in near silence except for some old pop song on mom’s playlist. Mom hits Palm Springs and we all start scanning the roadside looking for Tank’s old Camry. I’d give anything to see it, to know he is ok.

“So… should we talk about what you have been up to the last two weeks?” mom begins.

“Um, for what?” I pretend I don’t know she is asking about me and Tank.

“You expect me to believe you two are just friends and now he all of a sudden decides to out himself and leave home?” She looks at me with disappointment.

“I don’t know what we are doing or what we are to each other or pretty much anything… I love him… and he loves me… and there’s nothing wrong with that.” I try to look pitiful.

“Of course there isn’t anything wrong with that! Hiding it from me, though, is a whole other story! I could have helped you through this, helped him through this, helped Sybil through this! I might just know something!” Mom starts her rant.

“Ok well now you know so… Oh my god! It’s Him!” I hold up my phone and point excitedly. Those beautiful green eyes popped up on my screen and I felt a gush of relief.

“Answer it!” Mom started merging right to take the next exit off the 10 freeway.

“Hayden… I’m in trouble.” It was Tank, but he sounded so frail and sick. I imagine him lying on the side of a desert rock with a broken leg or something.

“Tank! Baby! Where are you?” I yell a little louder than necessary. Mom exits and turns into a gas station then disconnects her phone from the cord.

“I was heading for you. Things are bad Hayden, really bad.” His breathing sounds like a panic attack is coming.

“You’re not. It’s ok. We can help you. Where are you? Your parents are freaked. Please tell me where you are. I need you.” I beg him.

My mom calls his mom and whispers excitedly, “We found him!”

“I didn’t even know where you would be! I saw the place where you had your birthday on your snap and insta. I was going to head there. Is that stupid or what? I just got in my car and started driving. This sucks, Hayden. I can’t go home.” Tank is lost in his thoughts. I need him to focus.

“Tank, love, hunky monkey, please,” I beg. That makes him laugh.

“That’s my name for you! You can’t use it on me,” he laughs like we’re just chilling in my room without a care in the world. He sounds very lost.

“Where are you right now, baby? I need you to tell me where you are. We are heading towards you.” I try to calm my voice like my mom does when I am freaked about something.

“Oh, yeah, right. Um… It’s a coffee place in the middle of nowhere. I passed into California and they stopped me to ask if I had fruit. I’m crying and freaked out and they only care if I am traveling with fruit!” he laughs.

“Oh the fruit stop! Yes. They stop every car coming into California. You can’t bring fruit or certain animals. Ok how far past fruit inspection did you go?” I am so close to pulling it out of him.

“Uh I don’t know, man. An hour… maybe? This is definitely not Los Angeles. There’s just a gas station and this coffee place and some big tanks. Tanks like me!” His voice tells me he is not on this planet. I am so scared for him.

“Coffee place an hour past fruit inspection, gas station, big tanks,” I say to the car and my mom screws up her face.

“Yep, tanks. They have cannons and some gun museum. I dunno, Hay. I had to pee really bad. Where are you?” he asks me as if I’m the one who is lost.

“Chiriaco!” Mom says. “He must be in Chiriaco Summit! That’s the only thing between here and the state line. Let’s go!” Mom puts Mrs. Kempton on speakerphone and sets it down in the console then pulls back out to the road back to the freeway.

“40 minutes,” Aaron announces from the back seat. He leans forward between us and shows the map on his phone. “Straight ahead on I-10!”

“I love this kid.” Mom smiles and gives Aaron a kiss on the cheek then barrels out into traffic.

“I’m on my way, Tank. Ok? Just stay there. It’ll be ok. We will fix this, ok?” I hear him humming along to an Ariana Grande song in the background.

“Can’t, Chief. I’m cancelled for real. You should have heard my dad, Hay. He looked like I died. Why did I even have to say anything? We had a great night at the cotillion and Jess was so blissed… then I sat down waiting for my parents to finish talking to friends and I open my snap and there you are with your beautiful party. A rooftop club? Oh man, Hayden! That was epic. I missed it. I took the L on that one,” Tank starts beating himself up.

“It’s ok. I’ll make it better. No worries, ok? I’m coming there for you and all I can think about is holding you and making this better, ok?” I start crying and I’m trying to hold it together while mom floors it like an ambulance driver.

“For what? There is no better anymore. I shouldn’t have even called you. I’m sorry.” Tank takes a gulp of air.

“Don’t hang up. Tell me about the cotillion. Did you do the dances ok?” I need to cheer him up before he disappears again.

“Yeah… I guess. I mean it wasn’t bad,” he says and I can hear his mood lighten.

“What about the cake? Was there cake? How was it? What flavor? Was it chocolate?” I desperately pull for my interview skills.

“Strawberry. Jess is allergic to chocolate. It makes her stomach do horrible things,” he laughs.

“Really? Like what?” I try to sound cheery and light. I wipe the snot from my face. A hand appears beside me with a tissue. Aaron is the best.

“Keep him talking,” mom whispers like I am not already well aware of the plan here.

Tank tells me about when they were in sixth grade and Jessica had a chocolate bar on a dare and crapped her pants in class because the teacher didn’t believe she really needed the restroom.

We went on for another twenty minutes until Aaron’s map app showed us ten minutes away.

“Hey, Hayd. My phone’s going to die. My car charger crapped out… but um… thanks for talking to me. Ok?” Tank says and I hear the depression creeping back into his voice.

“Cables. I have a ton of them! Gobs! I’m like ten minutes from you. Don’t hang up. Please?” I look at mom and want her to do something.

“Coming here? How? You don’t drive. Wait. You’re bringing your mom, aren’t you? No, No! Hayden. No!” He starts to argue.

“I have to. Please. I just need to hold you. Ok? I will die if anything happens to you. Please. I just need to hold you,” I beg him.

“And then what? No plan, bro. I don’t even know what…” He is in the middle of a sentence when it cuts off. I don’t know if it’s his phone needing a charge or the cell service.

“He’s gone! His phone died or something. He’s gone!” I feel my chest grip with panic and reach over to grab my mom’s hand.

“We’ll be there soon. You hearing this, Sybil?” Mom yells at her phone.

“Please find him,” Mrs. Kempton sobs.

“We are almost there, Sybil. Don’t you worry! There’s nothing else out here. He’s not going anywhere,” mom assures.

I grip the passenger door handle like I want to rip it off. I feel my breaths come out in short, ragged bursts. My chest feels like it’s being squeezed in a vice and my mom’s voice turns into a garbled swirl.

“Get… Him… please,” I choke out. In front of us is an endless expanse of jagged desert.

“Almost there, two miles,” Aaron keeps us updated. I feel his hand squeeze my shoulder.

“There’s the sign. We are almost to him, Syb.” Mom yells to Mrs. Kempton.

“Oh praise the Lord!” She answers from the cup holder.

“Chiriaco!” Aaron jumps from the backseat and points at a green exit sign.

Mom weaves around two cars. She is a highly overlooked action hero.

“Christ!” She yells and hits the brakes as we reach the short exit that climbs a steep hill to the access road.

For just a second our car goes airborne and it almost feels nice. Our wheels slam back down against the sun-parched crumble of roadway and she makes a sharp turn onto the overpass. We get a horrified look from a family in a minivan heading the other way.

“Camry!” Aaron shouts as much weaves around a Gas station.

“That’s his! The Diamondbacks sticker!” I turn towards Aaron and squeal.

Mom slides into an open spot and throws it in park. She grabs her phone and purse then races out of the car. Aaron and I scramble to follow her.

“Mrs. Davis!” Tank looks shocked to see her.

She runs and yanks him from his chair then swallows him in a hug.

“Got him!” She screams into her phone. “Got him!”

I freeze a few paces behind her. Tank looks at me over her shoulder and his eyes look red and cold.

Mom starts to pull away from him, but he holds onto her.

“Oh!” She says then sets down her purse and the phone. She wraps her arms around him and he buries his face in her shoulder and lets loose in this silent wave of shivers.

I see his patch of tears splotch over her shirt then spread down her back. He’s crying and she puts her lips near his ears and starts whispering to him. She rubs his back and his head starts to nod.

I want to run over there and join them. I want to cry with him and reassure with her, but I don’t. She’s doing her thing. Mom will fix this.

There’s a huge need inside me to be a part of this, but there’s a bigger need for him to be ok.

That’s what love is. I read it once. True love isn’t wanting someone to be happy with you, it’s wanting them to be happy regardless of you. I want him to be ok. I want him to be happy.  He needs mom right now.

I stay back and feel Aaron put his arm around me. I lay my head on his shoulder and watch.

Mom sits Tank down then sits across from him and puts Mrs. Kempton on speakerphone to talk things out. She will fix this.

Chapter 14- Tanking Chances

We stay with Tank at the coffee shop until his dad can drive the few hours distance. Mom buys us lunch but only she and Aaron are hungry. I sit beside Tank and hold his hand under the table. I can feel his anxiety. He knows his dad is on his way and expects all kinds of awful ahead.

“I need the restroom,” he says when mom is deep into her salad.

“Ok. Aaron will go with you. None of us are leaving you until you are safely back with your parents,” she says. She knows better than to let him go alone.

“He’s going to be so angry.” Tank looks at her like a deer in the sniper’s crosshairs.

“Yes, but he’ll be relieved. If I think you’re in danger then I’ll drive you home myself. Deal? We will be driving right behind you the whole way home.” Mom reaches across and holds his hand.

He nods but I can feel him grip my hand with the one my mom isn’t holding. I lean over and lay my head against his shoulder. I wish I could calm him down.

Mom calls Mrs. Kempton when Tank reluctantly takes Aaron to the restroom with him.

“His dad should be there soon,” she assures us.

“I don’t want him yelling at the boy,” mom says. “He’s already scared enough.”

“He’s so upset. I told him, ‘You bring my baby home.’ I can’t believe Talmadge left like that. I feel like such a failure. He is such a sweet boy and always so happy. I don’t know what went wrong,” she tells mom.

“We’ll fix this. We will. It’ll be ok,” mom tries to reassure her.

+++ +++ +++

Mr. Kempton comes into the coffee shop with Gideon, Tank’s oldest brother, right behind him.

Gideon looks like a younger, taller version of his father. The Kempton men are built like steel. Mr. Kempton looks around frantically until his eyes find us. I nod my head at mom and she turns and stands to receive him first.

He looks so pissed. His face is red and sweaty. He has on a t-shirt and gym shorts with tennis shoes like he had intended to go for a hard workout when he found out Tank had left. He must have grabbed his keys and set off without thinking.

Tank lets go of my hand and he stands up like his drill sergeant just called him to attention. Mr. Kempton goes around mom and heads straight for his son.

The look in Tank’s eyes is pure terror and he starts to back away.

“No, dad. Please! I’m sorry,” he starts to say. He puts his hands up and braces for impact.

“Brian!” Mom tries to stop him, but he ignores her and goes around me.

“My boy,” Mr. Kempton growls and grabs Tank by his left bicep.

He pulls him against his chest and puts his arms around him. He hugs him tightly against his pecs. One hand is up on the back of Tank’s hair, pushing him in. I see Tank go weak in his arms and he hugs his father back.

“I am so sorry, son,” Mr. Kempton says. He puts his chin on top of Tank’s head and closes his eyes. “I love you. I love you,” he whispers to Tank as he’s squeezing him in his arms.

I watch Tank start to shake and hear his sobs muffled by his father’s shirt. He tries to say something back to his dad but it’s unintelligible. He looks so small in his father’s hold. 

  ![](https://img.wattpad.com/686dc56da19fe250f9ef5fc9618d8e689d944fa3/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f396a5f673570452d776a724247673d3d2d3736353132373233322e313562363066376238316463303361373532353934353138373838382e6a7067)

Gideon comes up silently on the other side of Tank and pushes into the manwich.

They have Tank pressed between them like play-dough that’s trying to enfold its missing lump. I can’t see Tank anymore, but my heart leaps thinking of the love he must feel right now.

Mom moves around to my side and puts her right arm around me. Aaron looks lonely so she pulls him into her other side.

The three Kempton men hug it out for a solid ten minutes. Gideon is the first to pull back, but Tank never pushes away from his father’s chest. Mr. Kempton just keeps whispering into his ear and rubbing his hair. Mom and I are both crying because it’s seriously beautiful to watch this. Aaron seems to be the only one holding it together.

“I’ll take his car. I think he’s driven enough for one day,” Gideon says. He fishes around in Tank’s pockets until he finds the keys.

“We better head home,” Mr. Kempton agrees. “Thank you for finding him, Lisa. I was losing my mind… Anything ever happens to him and his momma will kill me.”

Mom laughs. “Yes… I know she would.”

Tank finally pulls away from his father’s chest. His face is red and wet. He looks like he’s been through an emotional obstacle course.

Mom grabs some napkins and starts to clean him up. He keeps his eyes down, doesn’t look at me. His dad leads him back to the SUV and Gideon heads for Tank’s old Camry. Mr. Kempton secures Tank in the passenger seat of his SUV.

Tank doesn’t look at me. He turns towards the driver’s seat where his dad will sit and pulls his hands up in a praying form to rest his cheek on. His dad pulls the seatbelt over him and then rubs his back for a second before closing the door. Tank looks so small there and I just want to go hug him.

“This doesn’t even have gas in it! You always gas up before you leave Arizona!” Gideon shouts when he starts up the Camry and rolls down the windows. Mr. Kempton nods in agreement.

I laugh because that’s exactly what Tank had told me the night before we left for my birthday trip. That was his main wisdom about a trip to Orange County.

“California prices!” Mr. Kempton shakes his head. “I guess just this once we’ll have to pay them. We’re probably financing some unicorn research farm! I should fill up too.”

That makes me laugh even harder and I earn looks of annoyed curiosity from both of the older Kempton men. Mom smacks my arm, but I look over to see her smiling too. We all decide to fill up and then we head back across the desert towards home.

Crossing the California state line into Arizona you go over the Colorado river. In the middle of barren desert lands there is a little recreation area along the waterfront. The sun is starting to go down and there are people out on the water hanging out on boats or jet skis.

I remember the last time we left California, how sad and awful life felt. This time is different. Arizona looks pretty as we head into it. There’s a transition from the pale, sun-bleached sand of California to the darker, rocky stretch of Arizona. The desert goes from a light beige to a rich chocolate. It feels warmer, safer, happier. It feels like home now.

+++ +++ +++

We leave the Kemptons when they turn into their driveway. Mom takes us to our house and Aaron spends the night. He isn’t supposed to be home until tomorrow and mom calls his parents to get their approval.

Aaron shares my bed for the night. He should be in the guest room, but he hangs out with me on my bed and we talk until we both fall asleep. I want to text Tank and ask if he is ok, but mom tells me to leave them alone for the night since he is probably deep in conversation with his parents.

The next morning I wake up and see he hasn’t texted me so I send him one asking how things went. Mom makes us breakfast before we take Aaron back to his place. When we get back I notice Tank still hasn’t written me back.

“Give him time. He had a pretty big thing happen to him. It’s traumatic, what he did. I can’t imagine the pain that made him drive away from everything. He’ll come around,” she tells me.

I try to wait, but then I don’t. I text him again and ask how he is and what’s going on. I get no reply.

Mom takes me to the grocery store with her to get things for the week. I keep checking my phone and there’s nothing. I start to worry.

Mom’s phone rings just as we’re loading up the groceries. She leaves me to finish and goes to start up the engine and get the AC pumping while she answers it. I go to put the cart in the corral then join her in the SUV.

“We gotta talk, kid,” she says as she’s backing out.

I realize she’s talking to me and not on her phone. I look over at her and she sighs then shifts into drive and heads out of the lot. She looks unhappy and I can tell it’s not going to be good.

“So that was Mrs. Kempton. They took his phone and keys since he’s grounded for fleeing the state without telling anyone. He won’t be leaving the house without his dad for awhile,” she starts.

“Oh so that’s why he hasn’t written back. I guess that makes sense… are we going over there to see them soon?” I ask. It sucks, but he did give everyone a huge scare.

“No… And um… well they are asking for some privacy right now. They are getting Tank some professional help to deal with his feelings. It’s not a conversion therapist, it’s a real therapist and his dad is going with him. Apparently he really shook them up and they are just trying to surround him with love and help right now. I can understand that,” mom explains.

“So when will he be out of it? School is starting in a few weeks, right? Will he be out before then?” I look over at her and she just stares straight ahead. She won’t look at me and I know it’s bad.

“I don’t know. We just need to give them privacy to work things out. He is ok and they are getting him real help instead of conversion crap. So we are going to let them be for awhile. They are trying to do the right thing. I know it sucks. I’m sure he is missing you too, but they are asking us to respect their privacy and that’s what we need to do,” mom says.

She doesn’t look over at me, but she does reach for my hand. I squeeze it and nod.

+++ +++ +++

It hurts for a solid week. Every time I think of something funny or remember something we did together, I reach for my phone but remember his parents have it tucked away. It feels like he died.

I still go out to the backyard at night. Once mom is asleep I creep out to the back fence and whisper his name just to see if he’s there. He isn’t. It really feels like he’s dead.

Usually during the day, there are a few of the Kempton kids out splashing in the pool, but that’s gone silent too. At night, I can see the lights on in their house, but Tank’s window is dark and the curtains are drawn. Are they keeping him locked away up there?

Every night I dream about him and every time my phone makes even the slightest noise I dive for it. It’s never him. He’s dead.

By the next Friday I am somewhat numb to it. Mom hasn’t heard anything from the Kemptons and we don’t go there for dinner.

Aaron came over a few times this week. He likes hanging out at our house because my mom will let him choose a somewhat PG gay movie to watch. He helps me make dinner and by the time she gets home, the house is clean and ready for a relaxing evening.

Aaron loves her and even starts calling her mom. It’s weird, but he’s the closest thing I have to Tank right now so I put up with it.

She always calls his mom when he’s over. It’s a weird thing she does as if she doesn’t believe him that they are ok with him hanging out here. She says his parents are just happy he has a friend and isn’t as depressed as he used to be. I never go to his house. He doesn’t invite me.

So by Friday I am getting used to life on my own again. I am way past my allowed hours for work at the thrift store, but Mr. Baird lets me come in as a volunteer. There’s no limit on unpaid labor in Arizona. I need to stay busy and this place is loud enough to drown my thoughts.

I am just finishing my reorganization of the cookbooks when a strange voice comes over the intercom. It sounds high pitched like a man who is trying to sound like a lady. It also sounds like someone who hasn’t spoken English very long.

“Hai-deen AHH-modd,” the voice says and I snap my head up because it sounds like my name. “Joor help eez needs in aisle 4. Come now!”

It sounds weird because of the voice, but even weirder because we have no aisle 4. The sections are organized by men’s, children’s, books, etc… .There are no numbers.

I race to the front of the store to see who is trying to prank me, but everything at the registers looks like business as usual. I ask the cashier who that was and she just shrugs with a stone face.

I start to walk back towards the book section but then I hear the voice again.

“Hai-deen. You miss aisle 4,” it says again only this time without trying to sound like a woman.

I spin around because I recognize the voice.

I want to run to it, but I freeze. My legs are not working and my face contorts into an ugly cry. I cup my mouth with both hands and stare at him.

“I am home, little one,” he says.

I nod.

“Come here!” he gives me this strange look like I should be running towards his open arms.

I shake my head. I can’t move and now the tears are coming down hard. I close my eyes because I know it can’t be him, but he’s there when I open them again and this time he is closer.

“Dad… Baba?” I ask using the Arabic word for daddy.

“Is me, little one.” He throws his arms around me. He feels stronger, bigger than he used to. He hugs me and I melt in his hold.

“You’re back?” I choke the words out. He smells like sweat and the cologne mom hates.

“For visit, hopeful that I can stay for good. For right now, is just a visit. The lawyer works it out so there are no charges against me. For now I am tourist, but we will marry… do what we should do in the past to make things legal so I do not lose family again.” Dad holds me so tightly that I forget I was ever furious with him.

When I pull away from dad I can see a gathering of people watching us. In front of them is mom holding her phone up to record all of this. I wonder how long she has been there. She’s crying too and smiling like she’s never been this happy.

Dad puts his hands on my cheeks and thumbs away the leftover tears. I reach my hands up and grip his wrists. He feels real. I can’t believe he is actually here.

“Say thank you,” mom says when I turn towards her. She walks towards us, still holding up her phone to record.

“Thank you!” I say without knowing to whom I am grateful.

“Got it,” she says and lowers her phone. “Oh they will love that!”

“Is for your grandparents,” dad answers the unasked question. “They are very generous to help me get home to my little loves.”

“Yeah we need to have a long talk about that.” I sniffle back the snot trying to escape my right nostril. I wipe my cheeks and smile at him.

“Soon, ok? Let us go see this new house we have!” He is ready to completely avoid my inquisition.

Dad drives us home. I see a mass of suitcases in the back. They must have come directly from picking him up at the airport. We get home and unload his things. Dad inspects the place as mom starts to unpack his suitcases. I bring in his last bag and catch her holding up his suit coat and smell it. I remember doing the same with Tank’s shirt.

“Well this look very nice. I make good choice for my loves?” Dad comes back into the master bedroom as I’m helping mom hang up his shirts.

“It’s perfect. We need something more solid and sustainable like this. You’ll get a business going again and I’m working. We’ll pay your parents back as soon as we can qualify for a mortgage again.” Mom looks so proud.

“They are not concern to get pay back. They are so happy to meet their grandson. You will talk more to them and get to know them. They love when they meet you and your party. They say you are so handsome!” Dad beams with pride and I can see it eating at mom.

We finish adding him to our house and then go for lunch at an Arab place in Tempe. It feels so good to have everyone together again. It feels like we’re on vacation somewhere. Mom looks so relaxed. She knows dad is back and she doesn’t have to do all this by herself anymore.

I sit across from them. Dad has mom tucked up under his arm. He looks at her like she’s made of diamonds. He feels like a man again, being here with his family knowing he can take care of us. It all feels like a dream.

When they go to get ready for bed that night, I decide I won’t go out and look for Tank. It’s been a week and I haven’t heard a word. Going out there every night is just punishing myself. Waiting in the dark and whispering his name a few times feels like I’m stabbing a wound. It will never heal if I don’t let it go.

I brush my teeth and put on pajamas. I get into my bed and something just doesn’t feel right. Maybe it’s habit, but it’s become my little ritual to go out there and beat myself up waiting for him.

I lie there for a few minutes but then my feet carry me away. I put on sandals and tip toe to the back slider.

I walk all the way to the fence and start to call his name, but I don’t.

Instead I put my hand up against the sun-baked wood and close my eyes.

I take a deep breath and say, “Goodbye Tank. Goodbye.”

I pause for a minute in prayer and then hear a noise on the other side of the fence.

“Hayden?” his voice calls. “You came for me.”

His voice sounds weak, but it’s enough to send my stomach flopping around inside me.

He calls out to me and my heart tears open anew. I’m back to square one in the healing process. I know it will only hurt me again, but I answer him. I can’t say no.

I have to take a chance.

Chapter 15- Hakuna MaTanka

“Is nice, no?” dad asks as he pulls up to the valet at the Paradise Palms resort.

“It is very nice. I think mom will love it,” I tell him.

We’re scouting a location for their wedding. This is something should have done years ago, before mom even got pregnant with me. Dad could have applied for citizenship and he never would have had to go back to Saudi Arabia. Now they are trying to fix it.

“Welcome,” a chipper hispanic lady in a nice suit tells us when we walk inside. She leads us around the resort, past the pool and the fountains and all the desert scenery one expects from Arizona.

“This room is perfect,” dad says when she shows us the small chapel they use for ceremonies.

“It’s not too small? It only seats 100 guests. Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer the larger one? We have capacity for 500 in that one.” She is trying to upsell us on the room, but dad waves her off.

“No, no. It will be small. We do not need a grand space, only a beautiful space,” dad says.

“Why don’t you two make yourselves comfortable here? We’ll bring in some samples from the menu items and you’ll need to select a cake from the three options your bride chose. Settle in and I’ll have them sent in,” she tells us.

There is seating for 50 arranged on either side of the center aisle. At the back there are five large, round tables that each seat ten guests for the post-wedding meal. Dad and I choose the one by the window. It looks out over a green lawn with craggy mountains behind.

“Your mother tell me you spoke with this Tank boy. What happens there?” dad says when we settle in.

“He came to the fence. He told me he’s come every night, but didn’t have the nerve to speak. I went out every night to check, dad! I can’t believe he was there. I thought I was talking to nothing,” I tell him.

“And?” Dad prods for more.

“He said his parents aren’t in love with the idea of him liking boys, but they said they just need time. He was so happy they weren’t disowning him. Who would disown their son for liking guys? That’s so effed.” I shake my head.

“In most of the world this is exactly what happen. My parents do not even approve that I find your mom when I was in college here. They had so much trouble to accept it. I was scared for losing them, little one. Is why I am so accepting of you. I never want that you feel as I do back then. I worry I will have to choose so I choose your mother. I was so unsure to choose her or choose them, but then she tell me she is pregnant.” Dad shakes his head.

“You stayed with her for me?” I ask. He’s never opened up about this before. It makes my heart race wildly.

“No, my precious boy. Is that when she tells me she is pregnant with you it make my mind to instantly have to decide. Is like someone puts gun to my head, and right away my brain screams ‘Lisa! Of course Lisa! Always her!’ So that make the choice. The fact that I will have a baby with her is another reason, but is more that it force me to choose and when there is baby to my head I choose her and you and this,” he says.

“That’s really sweet.” I blush. Anyone spending more than two minutes with my parents can see how much he loves her.

“She deserve the best and you deserve the best. I worry for this boy. Is my Hayden putting his heart out to be crush? Will he hurt my little one?” Dad looks at me with concern.

A waiter brings out a tray of small plates. He lays them out in a line then sets down a card for us to select what we want. There is chicken and lamb and lots of side dishes. Dad grabs the lamb and brings it between us.

“I don’t know. I hope not. I just know that my body chooses him. My heart chooses him. I try to push it away and protect myself, but I can’t. It’s like you with mom.” I try a bite of the lamb and it melts in my mouth. I nod my head with a smile.

“I like this lamb too. I do not like that my boy can not resist this boy who may turn to be a problem. Is so hard to watch your children make mistake or take a risk. Do you remember when you learn to walk?” Dad takes another bite of the lamb.

“No. I was a baby,” I tell him this like he should know it.

“You are not a baby when you walk. This is the point! You should walk sooner but you cry when I do not pick you up so I always pick you up. Your mother tell me to put you down and let you try. But I can not do this! My child is there and reach for me and I am his baba. My Hayden cry for his baba so I pick him up. Finally, she put her foot down and demand that I let you try… She is do the same now with this Tank boy.” Dad shakes his head.

“She did?” I ask. I didn’t think mom was happy about me pursuing him. She’d told me to leave the Kemptons alone for awhile.

“She did,” he nods. “Is difficult choice to let you take this risk. I am hurt when you hurt. So please, go on and tell me what happens. You go to fence and he is there and he calls for you and…”

“And we talked. He sounded like he’d been really sick or something. His voice was weak. Oh dad, it was crazy. He said he didn’t know what was going to happen. They said they need time which means him not actively dating a guy. So we are back to hiding until they ease into it and I guess I’m ok with that. Right? At least they know and aren’t expecting him to be with a girl.” I shake my head.

“I am not ok with my boy to be a secret. You are no one’s shame! I am not ok for this.” Dad sets down his fork and reaches to squeeze my shoulder.

“It’s the best we can do right now. It sucks for him too. They’re finally letting him out of the house again though. We are supposed to meet up tonight to see the new Lion King.” I want dad to be ok with this.

“A dark theater!” Dad laughs. “This is how boys date in Arabia! Not Arizona! If you are ok with date this way then why do we live here? I can take you back to Riyadh. You will have your pick of handsome boys in dark theater there!”

He’s most definitely not ok with this.

“I don’t want them. I want him. This isn’t forever. They’ll get used to it. It’s just for now.” I force a smile so he’ll see I’m ok with this.

“Nothing change from ignoring something, my boy. They need face this and accept! Their happy, healthy boy love another boy. Is not end of world. I talk to them and work it out!” Dad sounds confidently optimistic.

“You will not talk to them! Promise me you won’t!” I raise my fork like I’ll stab him if he doesn’t agree.

“We go with the lamb. The chicken is dry. Rice is good and your mother will like these vegetables. We try cake now?” He asks.

He’s changing the subject. This means he will think about what I said.

+++ +++ +++

“You chose the chocolate cake? Did you bring me a piece?” Mom asks when she gets home from work that evening.

She’s already changed into a t-shirt and sweatpants after her long day. Mom is way too busy at work to plan a wedding and dad is not exactly employable at the moment.

“Of course, my love. They send whole meal for you to have final decision. The containers in the fridge.” Dad points towards the kitchen like mom might be confused where the fridge is.

“Oh this is good. I needed this.” Mom comes out from the kitchen holding a chocolate smeared fork. She loves cake, but I know she will have one bite, then dinner, then one more. She is not big on carbs.

“Come, tell me how your day goes,” dad says. He spreads out in the big chair. Mom brings the container with the dinner samples and sits sideways across his lap. He has his arm around her back and he turns down the baseball game to listen to her ramble about her day at work.

Seeing them like this feels like the cracked foundation of my core has been shoved back together and filled in with new concrete. They’re obnoxiously happy together. Even though she is the one working right now while dad is the stay-at-home, his parents are mostly financing this so he still feels ok.

“We need to discuss our little one. He has become a secret for this neighbor boy,” dad says when mom wraps up.

“I’m not happy about it. Do we need to discuss this, Hayden?” She sighs. She closes the food container and sets it over on the coffee table then settles back into his arms.

I shake my head no, but then I remember I need something from them.

“Which one of you wants to take me to the movies? It’s just at the mall. I could walk, but…” I look at them with hopeful eyes.

“What are we seeing? I could go for movie,” dad says. He knows quite well I am meeting up with Tank there.

“C’mon you guys. Please! It’s a hundred degrees out there and if I have to walk then I’ll smell disgusting when I get there.” I beg them.

They look at each other then look at me then back to each other.

“I don’t want to tell you what to do. We don’t want to see you hurt, but…” my mom trails off like she isn’t sure how to finish this.

“We take you. You text us when is over. It must be over before 9!” dad says.

Mom slides off his lap and adjusts her t-shirt as if she needs to look nice for this. I text Tank and he writes back a happy face and says he is leaving soon. His cover is that he’s going to see a friend from the baseball team. As long as he doesn’t mention my name they don’t press him too hard about it.

I change my shirt for the 12th time that evening and meet my parents at the door. They look at me like they’re taking me to a drug deal or something. I wish they could be happy for me.

“What movie are you seeing?” mom asks as dad pulls up to the light on Superstition Springs.

“Lion King is what he tell me earlier. At least the movie is safe for him. This is not good idea!” dad sighs.

“You loved that cartoon as a kid. You wore out the DVD,” mom says this like she’s remembering a deceased person.

“I did! I am so excited to see it! The live action version looks awesome,” I glow.

“You need money?” dad asks. I tell him no.

They deposit me at the theater which is on one side of the mall. I tell them I’ll text them when it’s over since it’ll be dark by then. They turn and give me their best forced smiles and tell me to be safe. I swear that I will and then hop out.

  ![](https://img.wattpad.com/ab34b0470c818fef3e0d8baeedcf8f12123f0df5/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f714f37465974494856334a655f673d3d2d3736363936323430392e313562373463623331366563626134313935313835303234343030382e706e67)

It’s still insanely hot out, but the sun is down at a reasonable angle. There’s a big plaza between the theaters and a Cheesecake Factory. It has benches and picnic tables. I look around but don’t see Tank there.

I text him that I’m here. He should already be there. I think maybe he went inside.

Most movie theaters have the ticket booths outside, but this is Arizona and it is too hot to do any kind of business outdoors. I head in and look around the lobby. He isn’t there.

I wonder if he hasn’t already gone in the theater. The show is starting in 20 minutes so maybe he went in to save us seats.

I check my phone again, but there’s no text from him.

I send him a text asking if he is already in the theater. I wait a minute, but don’t get a response.

I decide to buy a ticket and go inside since maybe the cell reception is awful in there. I can just picture Tank saving me a seat and looking wildly at the theater entrance hoping I’ll pop in. He has to be in there waiting on me. I feel so rude for not figuring this out sooner.

I go and buy a ticket then head towards the theater. I pause because maybe he will want some popcorn. Should I get it first before I go in? I start to head back towards the concessions, but then decide that I should go find Tank first. Maybe he already got some popcorn.

I go into the theater and luckily the show hasn’t started yet. It’s pretty full inside there. I look around for him. There are so many faces, but most of them are families. I am looking for a hot blonde guy who should be looking for me.

I scan the rows from the bottom to the top but don’t see him. I decide to look from the top to the bottom. He isn’t there.

I climb the theater step by step and look at each row. I even call out his name. No one answers, but some of the parents look back at me as if I’m some lost child.

“Tank?” I ask the audience. No one responds.

Ok maybe he is back in the lobby. I rush down the stairs and the lights are starting to go down. I give the theater one last scan and then head back out towards the ticket area.

There’s another movie showing soon and a line has formed to enter it. I walk down the line thinking maybe he got in it. He didn’t. I check the bathrooms and then check my phone again. It’s like he doesn’t exist.

My last hope is that he is back outside waiting for me in the plaza. I go out and there are families waiting for their tables at the Cheesecake Factory, and some teens hanging out on the picnic tables, but he isn’t there.

I check my phone again and there’s nothing. I sit down on a bench and guard the entrance to the theater.

The movie has already started now and he hasn’t shown up. I feel my chest tighten and I really want to just cry there, but then a bigger piece of me is severely pissed off.

It’s not like this was a maybe date. We had plans. He begged me to not see it without him. He told me in my own backyard that this was going to work and he couldn’t live without me. He said so many sweet things and I let myself be lured back into this.

I knew very well that this was not good. My parents even tried to warn me. I’d shrugged off everything and insisted that this was going to work.

I started to text my parents, but then I stopped. Seeing mom’s SUV roll up and hearing them try to console me was the last thing I needed right now. They would never in a million years say that they told me so, but it would sure feel that way when they picked me up.

Tank owes me some answers. Or maybe the Kemptons owe me some answers. I don’t know, but I need to go find out. It’s about a mile walk from here, but I am pissed off enough to do it.

I feel my phone buzz as I’m setting off. It’s probably Tank with some lame excuse and I don’t want to read it. I leave the phone in my pocket and start to walk towards the bridge over the freeway.

I start to make the long trek across the black top parking lot. Who would use black pavement in a scorching desert? By the time I make it to the main road I am already sweating, but I’m pissed so I keep walking. I could text mom and dad for a ride, but I doubt they would give me a ride over there just to confront the Kemptons.

I start to walk down Power road when a driver honks behind me. I’m on the sidewalk so I assume it is for another car. The car honks again and then an SUV pulls up beside me.

“Get in,” my mom calls from the passenger side. She looks upset. I race over and hop into the back seat.

“The Kempton man calls to us when we get home,” dad says from the driver’s seat.

“Tank lied to them about where he was going, but he confessed as he was leaving. They grounded him again,” mom says then adds, “I’m so sorry, Hayd. They should have let him call you and explain.”

“Can you drop me off there?” I ask them and they exchange worried looks.

“Oh honey, that’s not a good idea,” mom says.

“I don’t care. They need to know that what they’re doing to their son is shitty and I need some answers here,” I tell them.

“You want talk to his parents?” dad asks.

“I guess so. I don’t know. But this is wrong and they need to know it.” I’m resolved.

“Ok fine Hayden,” mom says and throws her hands up. “Yeah, let’s do this. Davises versus the Kemptons, ultimate smackdown.”

“I am here too! I am the muscle behind this operation,” dad chimes in.

“Sure, The Ahmad-Davises vs. the Kemptons. That sounds like a real death match,” I laugh. 

I’m not exactly in a laughing mood, but the way my parents are ready to back me up in a throw down hugs my heart in this fortress of happiness.

They both look back at me with smiles, happy they can lighten the mood here.

“So I punch the dad and you pull the mom’s hair. Yes? Then we grab the boy and run,” dad says to mom.

“Oh I don’t know. Sybil does a lot of pilates. You might need to fight her. Mr. Kempton has a lot of muscles, but he also has a trick ankle. If I kick it just right then…” Mom stops talking because she’s laughing too hard.

This is so effed up! We are sitting in her SUV joking about beating up Tank’s family. But it’s also so funny because this is exactly who we are.

I laugh ridiculously loud as dad talks about all the kung fu videos he’s been studying on youtube and mom jokes about us just running into their house and smashing everything then leaving before the cops show up.

I laugh so hard and then something catches in my throat.

I cover my face with my hands and I just start to sob like crazy. Tears are running down between my fingers and dripping onto my jeans.

“My little one,” dad says.

He pulls into the parking lot of a barbecue place and puts the car in park. He hops out of the driver’s seat and into the back with me. Mom does the same from the other side and they move in on me with crushing hugs. Dad pulls me against his chest and mom holds me from behind.

I have had way too many tearful hugs the last few days and I am so over feeling like this. I know Tank needs me and I need him, but this is bigger than either of us.

“We talk to his parents. Ok, little one? I do not want they injure you more,” dad says.

“I’ll talk to Sybil. She can’t be ok with this. She was always cool with the gay kids in high school! I can’t believe this is what she wants for her kid,” mom adds.

We go for ice cream and then head home. We play a card game that is way too complicated to explain here and then I go to bed.

I’m lying in bed looking through social media posts on my phone when a text from Tank pops up.

He wants to meet up in the backyard. I delete it.

He sends another one apologizing. I delete it.

A third one pops up and it’s a picture of us from the day at the batting cages.

I stare at it for a long time. I try to close it and put my phone away and go to sleep, but I can’t.

I open the picture again. This time there is another text asking if I’ll ever forgive him.

I want to tell him it’s not his fault. I want to tell him how much I love him. I want to run out to the backyard and find him and hug him and make this all feel better.

I start to text him back but then stop myself. I type and delete and type and delete.

I feel my heart racing so I get out of bed. I go out to my parents’ room and knock on their door. They’re still awake and watching the news in bed. Dad opens their door and I hand him my phone. He looks down at the texts and then hands it over to my mom.

“Ok,” mom says when she reads it. She takes my phone for the night and they put me in their bed. I feel like a dumb kid, but I need my parents and I am so grateful for them.

“Tomorrow, we sort this,” dad says. I sleep between them in the big bed they bought back when we were in Orange County. “Tomorrow,” dad promises.

Chapter 16- Hayden’s Group

“I’m going? You mean it, mom? And he’ll show up? They won’t stop him?” I nearly jump out of my seat.

“Yes. Saturday. I’ll take you and Tank’s mom will take him. As long as one parent is supervising, they agreed to it,” mom says.

“And we can be open! And… this is crazy!” I am so excited.

“We will be there to make sure you don’t do anything you… well that you wouldn’t do in front of us,” mom laughs.

“It’s super weird to go on a date with our moms. It feels like a weird old timey thing! Who does that?” I was too excited to care.

“Mormons.” Mom shrugs. This was her explanation for anything weird we ran across in Arizona.

“I don’t care. It’s fine. They’ll get a chance to see us together and see that I’m good for him. They’ll like me. I will win them over,” I declare. I am now on a mission.

“Oh honey. Their shit has zero to do with you. They love you. They don’t even blame you for him being gay. They’re working through their own issues. You are not responsible for that. I don’t want you even thinking this has anything to do with you being good enough or not!” Mom looks at me with concern.

“My little one is not the problem,” dad echoes.

“And that leads us to OUR condition of you dating Tank,” mom sighs.

“What? Conditions? Ok, fine. Whatever you guys want,” I am not going to argue when I’m winning here.

“There’s a support group for gay youth. They even have a teen group specifically for boys your age across the valley. They have a counselor there and they do fun things. It will be a chance for you to connect with kids your age who understand what you’re going through.” Mom offers that smile that begs me to accept this.

“Oh… kay,” I say.

She knows very well that things didn’t go so great in my high school’s attempt at a diversity group entitled “LGBTQ and You!” It was supposed to be a mix of the lgbtq kids with straight kids who were allies.

It was messy from the first week when one of the guys who was already dating another guy got friendly with me. His boyfriend freaked out and got the others in the group against me.

On top of that, the alpha-bro-superjock, Sean, showed up in week three. After picking on me throughout grades 6 through 8 he decided to come out in his freshman year. Not only did the group welcome him with open arms, the whole high school practically threw him a pride parade.

We ignored each other for the first few meetings, but then they gave him a bravery award at the first pep rally. He got up there, took the microphone, and then talked about how hard his struggle was. He talked about being worried all through junior high that he wouldn’t be accepted. He failed to mention that he had made junior high much worse for me.

I stopped going to the alliance club after that because I’d gotten into the advanced orchestra. Practice just happened to coincide with the meetings so I was off the hook. Since then I had waved off attempts to get me to a group.

“It’s a laid-back place. We called and talked to the lead counselor. They are excited to have you! I know you’ll make friends there. It will help you to step away from everything going on here. Ok?” Mom looked hopeful.

“I will take you. I wait at the window like I do your first day of kindergarten. Your mean teacher makes us to leave even though you cry. But I wait outside and look in the window until you are playing happy with the other kids.” Dad nods his head confidently.

“You’re going to hide out in the bushes at the LGBT center?” I am not hopeful that this will go well.

“I will wait nearby. You go to your meeting and I browse the things there. Maybe I meet a nice man in case your mother ever leave me,” dad jokes.

“Oh! Gay men love your father!” Mom rolls her eyes. It was true though. Dad’s a hunky Arab and he can charm just about anyone.

“Yeah. I don’t need to see dad getting a boyfriend before I do.” I glare at him.

“I am sexy. What I can say? You get the best of me and your mother so you will be very dangerous when you finish to grow up!” Dad leans over and side hugs me.

“Ok, yes! I will do it. When is the date with Tank?” I can’t wait for it.

“Friday. Group meeting is tomorrow night though. You two can grab pizza. It’s in Phoenix.” Mom nods confidently. She smiles at us, happy that she is getting her way.

+++ +++ +++

Dad and I head out right at rush hour, but we’re heading towards the city so we fly. We share a pizza and catch the first few innings of the Dodgers game on a big screen over the bar area.

It’s been so awesome to spend so much time with him the last few days. I’d even had time with him and his parents over FaceTime. They were teaching me simple Arabic words and dad promised them he would give me lessons. I knew he wouldn’t. They seemed like genuinely nice people and I couldn’t imagine what he’d told me about them rejecting mom.

We got to the LGBT center and dad helped me find the room. They hadn’t started yet, but there were a few guys my age there sitting on couches by the window. They’re all staring at their phones.

The counselor guy is this tall, older man with a bald head and full beard. He reminded me of one of the characters from the game “Guess Who?” that I used to play with mom when I was younger.

“You must be Hayden!” he says excitedly when dad and I walk in.

“Yes, sir,” I say and went to offer my hand. He shakes it then immediately moves his eyes to dad.

“We are happy to find this for our boy,” dad says. He comes up beside me and takes the counselor’s hand and pumps it firmly. He turns on his charm since he’s about to hand me off to this guy.

“I know he will find friends here. We have a friendly group. Right, guys?” He turns to the guys by the window and they look up and nod without much excitement.

“Super friendly group!” He assures dad.

“Well, ok. I wait in the area. Yes? There is coffee shop near to here?” dad asks.

“We have our own in house! And free wifi!” He says. “Do you want me to walk you there?”

“No. Is ok. I will find. Thank you!” Dad nods with a smile and then gives me a hug before leaving.

I help the counselor set up chairs and then other guys start to show up.

We sit around in a circle. It’s me and 7 other guys my age. We go around and share about our week. They skip me when it’s my turn and tell me I can go last since I’m new here.

Listening to their weeks makes me sad though. Each of them is trapped in a situation that sounds like suckage.

Evan is after his straight best friend who seems to waver on the straight part every now and then. Colton is in the middle of a custody battle between his parents. Aaron is struggling with an eating disorder and my stomach hurts as I listen to him describe how he has to find secret places to vomit so his parents’ don’t freak out on him.

No one is allowed to judge or offer advice or even respond. We just say, “Thank you for sharing,” and move on. I’m not sure this is the kind of group mom thought it was. These people have real struggles. I do not have real struggles. I don’t know why I’m here.

“So there’s this guy I fell in love with when we moved here from SoCal,” I start. They perk up and a few of them crack a smile. Aaron leans forward and nods his head. I do not have real struggles.

“His family is super mormon and when he came out to them they didn’t take it well.” Their faces tense up. They can relate.

I tell them about my birthday weekend when Tank came out to his parents then drove to California, the periods of silence, and the missed date night at the movies and how we both back-fence-it at night to talk. Halfway through I ask if my time is up, but they’re all just staring at me so intensely and the counselor says to go on.

I finish by telling about my scheduled date with Tank and how our moms are going to go as chaperones.

“Woah!” One kid calls out and covers a laugh.

“We don’t comment,” the counselor reminds him. The kid shrugs as if the situation calls for it.

“I don’t know how it’ll turn out and hopefully they just sit near us and not with us, but I get to see him again and I want that.” I say this and I get looks from some of the guys like I’ve just told them I want to play with knives. It feels judgy.

“I’m ok with it!” I feel like I need to defend what I have with Tank.

“Sounds good,” the counselor says and tells us it is time for the break.

I start to walk off to find my dad and tell him I am over this, but then one of the guys calls my name just as I’m leaving the room.

“Are you going to explore? I’ll come with you.” It’s Evan, the guy in love with his straight best friend.

“Sure. Where’s the coffee place?” I smile at him partly because he’s hot and partly because I’m glad he wants to talk to me after all the weird looks I got in the group share.

“Follow me,” he says. “I know we’re not supposed to comment. I dated a mormon who seems just like you described your guy. We tried to make it work, but in the end he picked his family and church’s approval. His parents wouldn’t bend at all for him. It really destroyed me. If you want to talk to someone who gets it, just let me know. Ok?”

Evan is tall and thin. On the gay spectrum he fits somewhere between Tank and Aaron. He has Tank’s confidence, or at least what he held before this whole thing blew up. He has Aaron’s delicate features, but didn’t wear clothes that begged attention.

“I’d like that. My parents don’t really get it.” We swap phones to trade numbers as he walks me to where my dad is sitting in the coffee place.

“Hayden! You finish early? Your mother says is to 8:00.” Dad looks surprised.

He’s already made friends with several guys in the small coffee area. They’re sitting on couches and talking. I wonder if any of them think they have a shot with him.

“No, sir. Just a break. This is Evan. Evan, my dad.” I wave a hand between them and dad stands up to greet him. They talk for a few minutes before we head back to the group.

The second half of the group is all about games. We split into two groups of 4 and get to pick a game from the shelf.

Evan immediately picks me and then Colton and Aaron join us to make a team. The other team grabs a card game and I spot a game I hadn’t played since I was young.

“They have Secret Potion!” I squeal with a little too much delight.

“That’s for little kids,” Colton points out.

“It is,” I sigh.

“Let’s do it!” Evan says. “I’ve never heard of it. Hayden can teach it to us.”

Aaron shrugs and Colton grabs the box.

I tell them the rules. They each have a monster figurine and a card explaining their monster that they choose from a deck. They have to collect potion cards to complete the potion and fight their monster. They get one card from the deck each turn, but they can also ask for a specific card from neighbors.

Players have to be careful because if someone figures out someone else’s potion then that player can be exposed and out of the game. Then there are cards drawn out of the deck which can punish them and make them lose ingredients and show them to the other players which makes it easier for them to figure out the player’s potion.

The goal is to either complete the potion or expose everyone else’s. It’s pretty fun!

I set up the board with a little too much excitement. The other three guys seem like they’re just going along to be nice to me. I don’t care. I want to play.

We start playing and they eventually get into it, but they are so competitive with each other and miss the fun of it. Colton claims Aaron is cheating and demands to see the rule book. Evan is more interested in talking to me and completely shows me his cards each time he slides too close to me.

“You have to keep these hidden!” I keep reminding him.

“Right… or else you’ll kill me.” He blushes and smirks then pulls his cards back.

“I’ll expose you!” I point out. “Then your monster will kill you, not me!”

“You’ll save me, won’t you, Hayden?” He laughs and it hits me like a smack that he’s flirting.

I pick up his monster figurine from the board and yell, “Die! Die! Die!” Then I pretend to wrestle it. I’m flirting too.

Evan laughs like this is neither dumb nor obnoxious of me.

I put the monster back on the board because I see my dad’s face in the small window in the door to the room. He’s watching me and smiling.

“I guess it’s time to go,” I say and nod towards my dad.

Evan looks up and waves at him. Dad interprets this as his sign to enter. The counselor guy looks up from his phone and quickly puts it away as dad comes in.

“Is ok? The group finishes?” dad asks.

“Oh, yeah. The end time is kind of flex. Some of the guys like to hang out.” The counselor pushes his fingers through his hair, totally entranced by dad.

“They do not have happy homes,” dad comments and forgets to whisper this. I blush.

“It’s a safe place here. Hayden fits in nicely.” The counselor walks towards the corner and dad follows so they’re out of earshot of the guys playing games.

“Yeet! Done!” Aaron yells and brings our attention back to the game.

“I was so close! I needed one more card!” Colton protests.

“I only had two of the ingredients I need,” Evan sighs.

“Well if you two were playing the game instead of each other.” Aaron motions between us.

“Rude!” Evan calls but then offers me a side smile.

“I better head out before the counselor tries to ask my dad out,” I joke. The three of them turn to look at the scene in the corner where dad is nodding politely while the counselor talks and waves his hands around.

“I’ll walk you out. I better head home too,” Evan offers.

“Don’t worry about the mess here. We’ll put the game away. No trouble at all!” Aaron lays on the sarcasm.

I motion to dad that it’s time and he perks up with a smile. Evan and I help them put away the game and then he follows me out.

“Evan,” dad starts the interrogation as we walk down the hall. “Your parents know of you?”

“Yes, sir. I’m out.” He says.

“Dad!” I try to stop him, but he gives me a disapproving look.

“They are fine for this?” dad continues.

“Oh totally. My uncle is gay, mom’s brother. He moved off to Seattle a few years back, but they’re super close.” Evan assures him.

Dad smiles. I blush.

“And you have boyfriend for yourself?” dad persists.

“Dad!” I smack his arm and both he and Evan laugh at my protest.

“I am endlessly single,” Evan sighs.

“You are handsome boy. You will have many suitors.” Dad smiles confidently.

“A suitor sounds nice, sir,” Evan giggles and hits a button on his keys that makes an old Camry light up. It looks nearly identical to Tank’s car, but it’s silver.

I start to tell him that Tank has the same car, but then I don’t. Something about bringing him up makes me feel like it would ruin things. I like him… a lot.

“You be safe to drive home. Is dark. Your parents do not bring you here?” Dad looks concerned.

“No, sir. I drive. I’ll be 18 in a few months.” Evan says this knowing dad’s next question will be his age.

“Well you drive safe. Do not race anyone,” dad advises.

“I’ll try, sir. But this car is a pretty sweet ride. She does 0-60 in 8 minutes!” Evan laughs and dad picks up on his joke.

+++ +++ +++

“He is nice boy. He like you very much,” dad comments to me as we drive out of the parking lot and watch Evan head off the other way.

“I have a boyfriend.” I say this to remind him, but more to remind myself.

“You are young.” Dad reaches over and squeezes my shoulder.

I turn and watch the skyline as he gets onto the freeway. The sun is down and the city is lit up and it looks like home.

I’m going out with Tank and our moms this weekend. I don’t think I should tell him about this.

Chapter 17- Playdate

“Really, Sybil. I think they’ll be fine on their own. It’s not as if they are sharing one,” mom says when Tank’s mom suggests they should go with us on the go-karts.

“I suppose… Let’s grab drinks and we’ll meet them at the exit,” she says. She’s been weird since we walked in. I hope mom can work her over while Tank and I go karting.

It’s Friday night and my date with Tank is just starting at Golf n’ Karts. I forgot how good he looks. Sure I have tons of pics of us on my phone and all his social media accounts. I go through them ten times a day… But when we spotted him sitting with his mom right at 7pm, my heart stopped.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this! I miss you so much!” Tank has the widest smile I’ve ever seen and his blue eyes twinkle under the lights.

“I miss you too.” The sun is down and we’re pressed into the line with a wall separating us from the rest of the park.

I slide my hand next to his and our fingers brush. His reach for mine, but I notice him tense up and look around us. He forces a smile when he sees me scoping him.

“I know this is weird. I seriously thought you’d say no. It’s like I’m on parole or something,” he admits. His eyes flash to mine and then look down like he can’t face me.

“It’s fine. Whatever works. I’m sure they will chill out after they get used to us,” I tell him. It’s what mom told me.

“I hope so. School starts next week anyways and you’ll be there,” he says.

“Next week? It’s not even August yet!” I protest as if Tank has any authority over this.

“Yeah next week! Didn’t you look at the calendar in your mailbox?” He gives me a smirk.

“No. We’re bad about mail. I didn’t even think about it, but I guess we’re not going back to California as soon as I thought.” I’m kind of glad for that. I’m not ready to say goodbye to this.

“No one leaves Arizona.” Tank eyes me ominously. “No… one.”

“I’m kind of liking it here.” I say this as I’m wiping the sweat off my cheek from being outside. Even though the sun is gone, it’s still over 100 degrees out here.

“It just feels good to be out of the house and not at church. What did you do this week? Tell me everything!” He looks so excited as the line moves forward.

I can’t tell him about the group at the LGBT center because then I’d have to tell him about Evan and that would not end well. Evan and I have been texting back and forth like crazy and I felt fine about it until the very moment when we walked into this place and I saw Tank. Evan will never be Tank and just the thought of him makes me feel like I’ve done something wrong.

“Just chilled around with my dad. Nothing much.” I lie. He cocks his head to the side like that can’t be right.

“Sorry. I guess my plight kinda bummed your week out,” he sighs like this is all his fault.

“No! Not at all. It’s been great having my dad back. But he can’t really get a job until they get married and sort out his citizenship. He’s trying to do everything legally this time so he can stay for good. The lawyer told him to just lay low and avoid attention.” I shrug.

“Oh. I get that. Sorry, Hayd.” He shifts uncomfortably, but keeps his fingers touching mine.

We move forward in silence then. Our bodies do the talking. I press in behind him as the line narrows. I want to slide my arms around him and hold him tight, but I don’t.

He pushes back against me and rubs that perfect bubble bottom on the one spot that quickly rises to attention. Everyone’s watching the karts go around the circle. No one is looking at the quiet gay boys trying to get their fill of each other in the dimly lit line.

I nuzzle my nose into the back of his neck. He has on that body spray that his mom probably bought him from Costco for Christmas. It’s not the best, but on him it becomes my favorite.

We’re being very covert, but then Tank lets out this little happy sigh. Holy shit that sound goes straight to my brain and I want to hear it again and again. I want to make it my ringtone alarm so I can wake up to it every morning and rub myself thinking of him.

A guy behind us clears his throat in a not too natural way. I back off of Tank and then turn to see that the throat clearer isn’t even looking at us. This is making me so paranoid. I turn back to Tank and he stifles a laugh.

“Yo! Next!” The guy at the front of the line calls. We move forward and get the last two cars.

We go around the track a dozen times. Tank starts behind me, but then he gets me on a corner and passes me. I don’t even try to pass him. He’s too competitive.

I see him strain his neck trying to look back at me, but he can’t. Then his competitive side goes full force and he starts passing everyone else on the track. Tank can never not try to win, even if it means leaving me behind. I don’t care. He’s having fun and that’s all I want.

He finishes in first place. I didn’t want to be rude and pass the kid in front of me so I’m in dead last. Our moms are waiting at the exit and Mrs. Kempton looks a little more relaxed.

“See?” Mom says when we walk out. “No one gets pregnant on a go-kart.”

I look at her in horror, but she just laughs and then Mrs. Kempton laughs and then Tank and I follow.

“I know. I know! This wasn’t even my rule, Lisa. But his father…” Mrs. Kempton starts.

“It’s fine,” my mom laughs and cuts her off. 

She puts her hand on Mrs. Kempton’s arm. “It’s fine, Sybil. I was just teasing you!”

I give her a grateful smile. She knows how to push her friend and then reel her back in.

“How about we golf?” Tank offers.

“Sure, sweetie. That will be fun,” Mrs. Kempton agrees.

We head over to the ticket area for the mini-golf. 

Right as we step up to the booth though, my mom takes a step and falls into Mrs Kempton.

“Oh! Ankle!” Mom yells and clutches Mrs. Kempton’s arm with both hands.

“Oh, Lisa! Are you ok? What happened, honey?” Tank’s mom takes the bait.

I know my mom’s injury scream. This is not it. My mom has this horrific yell when she gets hurt or surprised. It’s why my dad stopped pranking her years ago.

“Just need to sit down. That bench right there. Help me will you, Sybil? You boys go ahead and play. I need to sit.” Mom makes a big show and it works. She doesn’t let go of Mrs. Kempton.

They hobble over towards the bench and mom turns to flash me a tiny smile. Tank looks at me with his mouth agape.

“Did she just….” He asks.

“Did your mom fall for it?” I laugh.

“She’s a nice lady and she idolizes your mom.” Tank shrugs like he needs to defend his mom here.

“No… I know. I didn’t mean that… Should we play?” I nudge him towards the golf ticket booth.

We get our putters and set sail on the high greens. As soon as we’re out of their eyesight we pretty much forget about the game and just put balls while talking.

We’re flirting and laughing and it feels like old times with us. I forget all about Evan until my phone buzzes in my pocket.

Evan and I have been texting kind of non-stop the last two days. He started it with a text as soon as I got home with dad from the LGBT group. It was light and playful at first, but then we started sending each other pictures.

The first few pictures were what we were eating or what shoes I had on. He mentioned he liked the vans I had on the night of the group and I sent him pictures of the rest of my collection. Then he sent back some of his.

Suddenly, though, it took a dirty turn. He sent a shirtless pic and for some stupid reason I replied with that emoji where the yellow guy’s tongue is hanging out.

So thirsty! I know! Don’t yell at me.

 It was just my gut reaction and I regretted it instantly. That was the first shot and it broke the seal on us being more than friends. He demanded a shirtless pic of me and I was already in bed in my boxers so it went downhill from there.

Waking up the next morning I felt so guilty and stupid. I’d never done any kind of naked pictures with other guys. I hadn’t shown him my dick or anything, but it had been pretty close. Everything felt so exciting with him.

He was out and loud and proud and not scared of anything. The fact that he had the most perfect face and somewhat bulging biceps didn’t hurt either.

So back to the present. I’m here on hole 3 or 4 maybe, I’ve lost count. Tank hits his ball right as my phone buzzes. Thinking it was mom from her injury bench, I whip it out just as Tank lands a hole in one.

“Woah! Score!” I yell as the ball circles the hole and drops inside. I’m holding my phone but I forget about it momentarily.

“Oh is that your mom? Does she want us to go back?” Tank asks.

He doesn’t even give me time to look at it. He is two steps away and quickly closes in as I raise it to my face. He peers over my shoulder as the message opens.

There, to my horror, is a picture of Evan sucking on a straw showing me the boba drink he is having right now at the boba spot in Scottsdale he’d told me he’s obsessed with.

He’s not just sucking on the straw, he is SUCKING on the straw and his eyes look like he’s thirsty for much more than boba.

“Oh shit,” I say and look over at Tank.

“Who’s that?” he asks. There’s so much hurt in those two words. His voice cracks and he puts his hand on my shoulder and my heart starts to pound in my ear.

I haven’t even gone out with this guy. I haven’t cheated on Tank, but the knife stab to my heart is quick and painful.

I drop my phone down to my side and look at Tank with guilt. There’s this huge lump in my throat and I feel instantly like I’ve done something horrific and unforgivable.

I haven’t! I really haven’t! All I’ve been doing is texting Evan, but my look tells Tank much more than he needs to know.

“Oh….” Tank looks at me and his eyes are doubled in size. I can see the tears forming.

“No! No! It is not what you think! I went to this gay group and met this friend and he is just being funny. It’s not like that,” I say, but my voice sounds so desperate for him to believe me that he thinks it’s total bullshit.

“It’s cool. You moved on. I get it,” he says. He takes his ball out of the hole and comes back towards me.

“It’s not! I didn’t! I swear!” I try to stop him.

“It’s fine, Hayden. Let’s go check on your mom. I’m kinda over this.” Tank looks at me like I’m something he needs to scrape off his shoe. My stomach drops.

He starts to walk away and I feel this surge in my legs. I run to stop him and block his path.

“No! You don’t get to walk away and be all hurt. You don’t even know how much this has sucked for me. I waited at the movies. I went inside. I searched it like crazy looking for you. I sat outside and waited and waited! You don’t get to be the one who walks away again!” I am pissed.

His anger vanishes and he drops his putter. His cheeks move up like he’s going to cry, but then he shakes his head like he’s pushing it off.

“It’s not like that. I am so sorry. I wanted to be there. I wanted to be with you and I wanted to have a normal regular date night with the guy I love. I know this isn’t wrong. I know there’s nothing wrong about loving you.” Tank reaches to take my hand. He slides his fingers between mine and grips my fist then pulls it to his chest.

“I want you too. My mom made me go to this gay kid group to meet new friends. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I promise I haven’t done anything with him. I was just so hurt and every time I open to the possibility of you I get hit in the face with a big steel door.” I lean towards him.

I want to kiss him there. A family comes up behind us and plays through like we’re not even there, like two boys in love is not even something to stop and watch.

I pull him into me and inhale his cologne. He puts his chin on my shoulder and I wrap my arms around him. Every good memory of him comes flooding back and I squeeze him as tight as I can.

“Please don’t give up on me,” he whispers.

I kiss his cheek and hold onto him. How could anyone ever give up on him.

“I’m not. I won’t. I can’t,” I admit. I pull him to the side behind a tree and next to a dark stone wall. “I won’t. I promise.”

“They’ll get over it. They’ll calm down and soon we’ll be seeing each other every day at school anyways! I promise you I’ll make it worth it. Ok? Don’t ditch me for some dude sucking boba like it’s a dick.” Tank sniffles against my shoulder.

“No boba dick,” I repeat like it’s a solemn vow.

We both laugh but none of this feels funny. My phone buzzes again in my pocket between us.

“Oh what is he sucking now?” Tank sounds annoyed but then adds a laugh.

“No,” I say and whip out my phone. “It’s my mom. She says your mom is coming. We better skip a few holes so she doesn’t get the wrong idea of what we’re doing.”

Tank pulls away from me and grabs his putter. He holds out his other hand and I take it. We race around the family that passed us and get to hole 8. He forgot to grab his ball, but I spot one in a bush and dive for it.

“Ahh! The dreaded bush trap!” He yells right as Mrs. Kempton comes strolling over.

“Almost finished, boys?” she asks.

“Oh hi mom! Is Mrs. Davis feeling better?” Tank asks as though he’s just spotted her.

“Yeah. I got her a lemonade. She is heading towards the car to rest it. How is it going?” She moves between us like a police investigator.

“Pretty bad. He keeps getting it in two putts or fewer. If it weren’t for this bush, I’d be totally sunk,” I tell her and smile.

“I’m glad you got to have a fun night. I know this seems silly having your moms tag along, but… you’re both so young and we don’t want you doing anything you’ll both regret.” She’s digging for a reason other than their bigotry.

“Who wouldn’t want to hang out with our moms,” I say to assuage her guilt.

“Yeah. Moms are big this year!” Tank nods and winks at her.

“Last year was all about dads, but 2019 is pure mom,” I agree and vigorously nod my head.

“Dads are so 2018,” Tank backs me up.

“You boys,” she laughs. “So silly.”

She gives us an approving smile then checks her phone.

“It really is good to see you happy. I miss this smile,” she says and puts her hand on Tank’s cheek.

“Thanks, mom. This has been awesome.” He reaches up near his face and covers his mom’s hand with his own.

Her smile deepens and they hold that pose for a solid minute.

“I better go check on your mom, Hayden. You boys take your time. Ok? I’ll go wait with her,” She turns to me, puts her hand on my shoulder, and pats it like I’m not the evil gay kid trying to lead her good Mormon son astray.

We wait until she walks away and then Tank turns to me with his jaw dropped.

“That was epic! See? I told you! Dad will take some time, but… wow!” He lights up.

“She practically begged us to do some make out magic!” I joke but Tank shakes his head.

“We gotta be good here. She’s happy. She’ll work on my dad if we don’t mess this up.” Tank means business.

“Do you want to finish the course?” I ask. We kind of forgot about the whole golf thing.

“No.” His face suddenly lights up. “I know a spot.”

He pulls me over near where the waterpark is. It’s night time and still packed over there, but he finds a hidden spot.

“This used to be our meetup place if we got lost when I was little. We’d set up our cooler here with the food and stuff,” Tank says.

It’s a picnic table back near the edge of the park. There’s a high wall and we can hear the freeway buzzing behind it. This time of night it is dimly lit and no one is there.

“Ok we gotta set a timer. 7 minutes in heaven sound good?” He laughs.

“Seven minutes? Like the makeout game? I think they only do that on TV.” I tell him this, but I don’t care. I just want to be with him.

“I figure that is enough time until we need to head back to the car. Ok… and… start!” He sets his phone down and lunges for me.

He pushes me up against the wall and our lips begin a slow wrestle that goes from clumsy and desperate to slow and intense. I rub my hands over his bottom and squeeze it as he presses into me. His hands do the same to mine and it makes my skin feel electric.

Our bulges rub against each others and just as we’re getting close his phone chirps behind us.

“Noooooo,” I protest and don’t want to let him go.

“Next time. Ok? You feel so good, Hayden.” His voice sounds like it’s dropped an octave and if he says one more word, my body will explode on him.

He pulls away first. We both look like we just ran a mile; our clothes are wrinkled and sweaty. He dives in for one last kiss and I try to grab for him, but he pulls away.

We walk the dark way to the cars and avoid contact so our shorts can settle down. He stops me just before we get to the edge of the parking lot.

“I love you,” he says and kisses my cheek.

“I love you too,” I tell him.

We find our moms sitting in my mom’s SUV and listening to old music from high school. They completely lost track of time and look surprised to see us.

“You boys finished quick! Everything ok?” My mom turns down the music as Tank and I slide into the back seat.

“So fun,” I say and meet her eyes in the rearview mirror. She smiles at me.

“Good, good. I guess we better head home. Thanks so much for staying with me, Sybil. I forgot how much fun we have together.” She hugs Mrs. Kempton good night.

Tank and his mom get out. I should move up to the front seat with my mom, but instead I stay in the back. I thank her for all her efforts to get me some alone time.

“No problem, kid. I just hope things are better going forward. You’ll make new friends in that group and you’ll have kids who understand what you’re going through when you need to talk about it.” She drives me home as we listen to her music.

I get to bed that night and see more text messages from Evan. I ignore them. I don’t send back a picture of me sucking on anything. I don’t want to feel guilty anymore.

Chapter 18- Bros before ’mos

“You got everything you need, Hayden?” Mrs. Kempton asks me as I slide into the middle seat of her SUV.

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you for the ride to school.” I nod. I am still half asleep, but it’s the first day of school and I know I can’t count on dad to get me there on time.

Dad found a job this week. A Saudi company that does business in the US needed another remote coordinator. It was one of the few jobs he could find that didn’t require a US work visa and he seems to enjoy it so far, but the hours are based on their time zone and not ours. He was just heading to bed when he woke me up this morning.

“No problem at all, dear,” she says and smiles at me in the rearview mirror. “Talmadge will help point you to your classes.” It always makes me smile when she calls Tank by his proper first name.

The high school is only a few minutes away and I went two nights ago with mom and dad to get a tour and pick my classes. I tried my best to get the same classes as Tank, but he was on the athletic track and my parents wanted to keep me on the advanced placement one. I couldn’t exactly argue with them on that.

“Well, Talmadge,” I start when we get out of the car. He glares at me but then smiles. “At least we have the same home room.”

“Yeah. Ms. Berks is the works! My brother had her last year and she used to surprise kids with donuts if they show up on time!” Tank glows and reminds me of what a sugar fiend he is.

We make our way through a series of jammed hallways to a peaceful classroom near the back of the school. The teacher went all out with decorations. She has the chairs arranged around group tables and there are two comfy couches along one wall. Her windows look out over the football field and everything is done in shades of pink and green.

“Welcome! Take a name tag! What a great year this will be!” Ms. Berks greets us from her wheelchair. She has grandma arms that show wagging skin flaps as she gestures excitedly towards the small table by the door.

Tank grabs two nametags and a marker then heads over to two empty seats by the window. He takes the outer desk and pulls out the middle chair for me. There’s a girl deep into her texting on the other side of me. She does not look up, but slides her bag out of my space.

“I can’t believe we get 50 minutes together every morning,” Tank whispers to me as he nods to a friend coming in the door.

I start to reply but then Ms. Berks calls our attention. She lifts two boxes of fresh donuts from behind her desk and says we can all have one once we get through her presentation. This lady knows what she’s doing. Everyone pays strict attention to her slides with the rules and assignments we will work on.

The next class is Tankless, but he walks me there as we finish our donuts. It’s calculus which isn’t my top subject, but I did a prep class for it back before we left California so I feel like it’s achievable.

I take a desk near the center and pull out a fresh notebook. Judging from the nerd crowd filling in around me, this is going to be intense.

There’s a boy already seated beside me. He’s taller than me; a little bulkier, kind of cute. I dig out my pencil pouch, and when I pop my head up from my backpack, he’s staring right at me. Our eyes meet and he quickly turns his head down and shakes his head. I think he’s scoping me. Maybe this class without Tank won’t be so bad.

“Have you had this teacher before?” I ask him.

“Uh…” he lifts his head then looks around as if he thinks I couldn’t possibly be addressing him. “Me? Oh um… yeah. Mr. Siddhu… Once you get used to his accent, he’s pretty good. “

“Chill… I’m Hayden.” I stick out my hand towards him.

“I know.” He doesn’t take my hand, doesn’t offer his name. He turns back towards the front and pulls out his phone to distract from my presence.

I take my hand back. I guess I misread the situation. Why was he checking me out earlier? It’s confusing. I start to think if maybe I met him before and somehow pissed him off, but I can’t recall this guy.

Mr. Siddhu comes in. He’s an older, Indian man with a brown blazer and a wrinkled check-print shirt. He pushes back his black hair though it’s mostly thinned on top.

He starts passing around a class outline and then talks in a heavy accent and I immediately look over at the guy next to me with a smile. He is definitely hard to understand. The guy quickly looks away but then smirks like he’s trying not to share in the joke he started.

We get into the material and the teacher passes out packets where we have to use our existing knowledge of the material to solve a community project. Of course he makes us pair up and of course he points between me and the guy next to me who was trying his best to pretend I didn’t exist.

“Slide your desks, put your names, stay focused, get to work,” the teacher says and then grabs a clipboard and starts to walk around and make notes about us.

“You’re Alden?” I ask when he writes his name.

He shakes his head like this wasn’t something he wanted me to know.

“So, Alden,” I say then add, “Did I do something?”

“You busted my friend… Tank… ruined his life man. We used to be tight before you came in and twisted him,” Alden says. He isn’t looking down anymore and I can see a mix of anger and disgust in his eyes.

“I… oh…” I suck in a shot of air then refocus. “He’s not broken. He likes guys. I didn’t do that.”

“Nah, bro. He was never like that. You did that. He’s lost all his friends. He probably won’t be on the team much longer either,” Alden fumes quietly as the teacher passes. “You did that.”

“I…” I start to protest, but Alden grabs our shared paper and pushes his desk away from me.

“I’ll do it myself. I don’t want you trying to gay me too,” he says and gets to work.

My cheeks burn red. I want to argue with him, but he keeps his head down and scratches out answers on our work. What’s wrong with him? Do people like this really exist?

The teacher walks past us and gives me a look of annoyance like I’m some lazy mooch. He peeks over Alden’s shoulder then nods his head with a smile. He glares at me once more then walks away.

I sit there for the rest of the period feeling my pulse race like fire. I want to argue with him, and my fists are stuck in a tight grip.

The period ends and I start to get up while Alden collects his materials. I want to say something, but instead I walk away remembering I have to get to the other side of campus for my next class.

The hallway quickly begins to fill with students and I get pushed aside by a tide from behind me. I knock against the wall and it just makes me angrier as I wade through it.

I’m not angry for being blamed. I know I didn’t turn Tank gay. I am pretty cute, but I know it doesn’t work that way. I’m also pretty sure Tank liked other guys before me.

I’m angry that people like Alden exist and get to be so vocal about their hate without remorse.

I’m angry that someone as good and honest and kind as Tank has to grow up in a place where everyone who claims to love him is constantly beating him down and pressing him into the mold they want.

I’m angry that this state completely loses its mind when someone strays from the perfect expectations. A guy like Aaron wouldn’t even raise an eyebrow where I’m from, but here he is a total outcast and now Tank too? It’s not ok. I’m not ok.

I sit through chemistry and don’t hear a word the teacher is saying. I barely hear the girl sharing a table with me.

I get so worked up that when I finally pass Alden again in the hall, I am ready to jump him.

“Hey!” I yell much louder than I intend. Everyone around us freezes and Alden jumps a little.

He turns and looks at me then jerks his shoulders and says “What?”

“You don’t get to bully people just because you’re a homophobe!” I close in on him, probably not a smart move since he’s bigger and bulkier than I am.

Alden gets closer and under his breath growls, “You don’t come here and make the rules. This is my school. I could end you.”

“Do it then. Show everyone what a big shot you are picking on gay kids. Maybe I’m not so weak. Come on,” I press him.

I watch his chest puff up, then I feel a hand on my bicep pull me backwards.

I turn and look, thinking it’s Tank and he’s being brave, but it’s not. It’s the math teacher and he’s looking at me with annoyance.

“We do not fight here!” he booms and looks directly at me like I’m the problem.

“What’s going on… Hayden?” I hear Tank’s voice and turn to see him push through the crowd.

“This dude thinks he can push people around.” I wave my hand towards the crowd as if they will support me here.

“Do we need to take this down to the office?” The math teacher asks. “I won’t have fighting!”

I want to tell him that yes we should. My parents would shred this school for putting up with anti-gay bullying. I look over at Alden and his confidence is gone.

“No, sir. I accidentally bumped into him and he overreacted,” Alden says then adds a short, “Sorry, dude. Didn’t mean to! It’s all good, kay?”

“That’s better. We use our words here, not our fists! I hope I won’t have to remind you again, young man,” The teacher says and then pushes between us to go back to his classroom.

“You guys were fighting? Why?” Tank asks. He’s wearing his backpack and he grabs at the straps like a security blanket. He looks between us and bites his lip.

“Ask your boyfriend. You obviously don’t know me anymore,” Alden walks past me and steps up to Tank. His face changes from anger to hurt.

“What do you mean? We’re friends, Alden! We’ve been friends since before kindergarten. Why are you busting on Hayden? What did he do to you?” Tank looks seriously confused. He’s trying to reason with Alden.

“If we were that good of friends, I would have seen this coming. You dropped all of us and now you show up with some dude and you’re gay now and… You’re a totally different person now! I don’t know who this is… and what this is.” Alden waves between us.

“Hayden’s my…” Tank’s cheeks turn bright pink and I can see his pulse begin to race.

“Your what?” Alden is going to force him to say it. Tank hesitates. I sigh.

“Just forget it. This isn’t worth it,” I tell them and turn to walk away. The hallway is a sea of eyes staring at us and I don’t want to put Tank through this.

Tank grabs my arm though. He turns me back towards them and then pulls me against his side. He slides his hand down my arm then his fingers push their way between mine. He’s holding my hand. It sends a shock of warmth through me.

“This is me. This has always been me. So has baseball player… lover of spicy fritos… and best friend. I’m the same guy who can still beat you in a Warnight tournament. I’m the same guy who knows to keep you away from anything with peanuts. I’m the same guy who threatened Kurson Halliman when he tried to fight you two years ago. I’m still your friend, Alden… or I thought I was…” Tank squeezes my hand and looks at Alden with pleading eyes.

“This.” Tank raises his hand and brings mine with it. “This doesn’t change any of that. It doesn’t change who I am to you.”

“It changes everything!” Alden starts, but Tank cuts him off.

“Why? Did you want to date me?” Tank tries to make a joke.

“No! Of course not… it’s just. You dropped all of us. You disappeared on us, bro.” Alden’s voice falls softer and loses its anger.

“I did. I’m sorry about that. My family is adjusting and… this is my first relationship. It’s a lot going on. You did the same thing last spring when you were dating Lisa,” Tank says.

“Don’t bring her up… still too soon,” Alden shakes his head, but a tiny crack of a smile curls one corner of his lips.

“Sorry, bro. I know that hurt. I was there for you! Who signed her phone number up for every spam text list? She had to change her number, bro! I always had your back! “ Tank sighs.

Alden cracks a smile then nods his head like he’s going to be ok here.

I hang back silently at Tank’s side. He hasn’t let go of my hand and something about him feels so different. I look at his chest and realize it’s puffed up again, not caved and scared. His shoulders are pulled back like he’s ready for anything. There’s a buzz to him like he’s not afraid anymore. He looks like the confident, playful boy I first met in the thrift shop.

“Look… I’m… I don’t hate gay people, ok? I would never be a dick like that. I just hate losing my friend,” Alden says and I peel my eyes from Tank’s strong pecs to realize he’s addressing me.

“I didn’t mean to take your friend.” I nod.

“I just… If this is who you like… or what you like… Just don’t shut us out. Ok? And… I’m sorry for being rude to your… guy.” Alden turns to Tank.

“I won’t. Everything was just so crazy… I kinda lost myself too.” Tank’s lips form a smile as relief pours through him.

“I guess I should have been there for you and reached out,” Alden says.

He looks like he wants a hug. I nudge Tank towards him, but they do some weird bro handshake instead then punch each other on the arm and laugh.

“I gotta head to history,” Alden says with sudden urgency and checks his watch.

“Cool.” Tank nods and smiles. Alden nods back then takes off.

Tank stands there for a minute just holding my hand and watching Alden disappear down the hallway.

“That was awesome,” I tell hm. “I am so proud of you.”

“Lets get out of here,” Tank says. He nods towards the side door. It’s our lunch time so we have forty minutes together.

He lets go of my hand and I follow him out to a quiet patio between buildings. It’s blazing hot out, but we find a quiet area under a tree.

Since mom is the career lady now, dad decided to take over making lunch. Of course it is a Saudi feast. I have a stack of pita and hummus, a container of falafel from last night’s dinner, and a pack of olives.

“What is all that?” Tank asks as he bites into his turkey sandwich and opens a bag of chips.

“Dad lunch. It’s good. You want some?” I offer. Tank shakes his head.

“So you’re out here… How does that feel?” I ask.

“I don’t know. It’s weird, Hayd. Like I don’t even care anymore.” Tank shakes his head.

“You don’t care what people think?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Nah. I did care, but then seeing you being threatened like that. It snapped me out of it. I cared more about you being ok than me being out. I was so afraid of their rejection, but none of it mattered once I saw him trying to fight you.” Tank sets his sandwich down and reaches over to put his hand on my leg.

“I love you.” I say.

“Guess I love you too.” He laughs. “I won’t let you be hurt, Hayden.”

He leans over and kisses my cheek then steals an olive.

“I don’t want this to be so hard anymore… you know?” he asks.

“It feels like it’s getting better. At least we’re together.” I shrug.

“As long as we’re together, it’s going to be ok. It has to be ok,” Tank assures me.

We eat our lunch together and things feel lighter. Maybe his parents will take some time with this, maybe his friends will take some time with this too. But as long as we get to be together, everything is going to be ok. We are going to be ok.