Dead Like Me

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I kinda knew he liked boys.

I have to admit that I was pretty naive about the whole thing. I never knew that it was possible for a guy to like another guy and for it to be right. I was always raised to believe that sexuality was a choice. And there is always a wrong choice.

Even while I had these unexplainable feelings for him, I convinced myself that they weren't anything abnormal. I mean, I didn't think it was love or anything. I just idolized him. Yeah. He was my role model. That's it. That's how I wanted to own him. I wanted to be just like him.

I just wanted to be around him.

I mean, it wasn't like he told me or anything. It was just something that I could sense about him. The lingering looks he would give those pretty boys that walked by him. The blink-and-you'll-miss-it touches he bestowed upon them. He liked boys. But I liked him.

I think I figured it out the first time he took me to the bar. I wasn't old enough to get in legally yet, so he borrowed me a fake ID. Hindsight being what it is, I'm almost positive it was stolen. That's Gerard for you.

As soon as we got in, I was overwhelmed by the sights and sounds. I had never been in a bar before, and I'm sure it was obvious. The thumping music, the sweaty intertwined bodies on the dancefloor; it was all so foreign to me. I gawked and gaped, trying my best not to look like I was. I had to be cool. I had to fit in with everyone else.

I could feel Mikey clinging to the back of my shirt with clenched fists, worried about getting lost in the fray. I refrained from doing the same to Gerard.

Gerard led us over to the bar straight away. If there was anything in this place that I recognized, it was the smell of alcohol.

He ordered two shots of something, and handed me one. No, Mikey, you're driving. 151, I thought. I downed it, and he ordered us another one. Second one down. Two beers each, and we were good to go.

We went downstairs to the smoking room. It was hazy and poorly ventilated, but it seemed more familiar to me than the Top 40 Dance-o-Rama that was going on upstairs.

I pulled out my pack of cigarettes and lit one, Gerard doing the same. He was looking around the room, seemingly trying to find someone. I didn't know who. For the last while, in my short-term memory at least, Gerard and I were the only two. He hung out with me, and I hung out with him. Sure, his brother Mikey tagged along too. He was closer to my age, and we got along well. And he was a bit more of an introvert than Gerard was. Funny. You think I would have chosen him to be around. He was more like me. But Gerard wasn't like me at all.

Well, you know what they say. Opposites attract.

But they never tell you that the attraction may be one sided.

Mikey nudged me, and I smiled at him as I realized he asked me something. I'm not quite sure what he'd said. I was lost in my own thoughts. Then I saw that there was someone sitting with us that I hadn't seen before.

He was sitting next to Gerard, and they were talking quietly, Gerard with his hand on the guys kneecap, and the his lips this close to his ear.

"Who's that, Mikey?" I leaned over and asked quietly, trying to be nonchalant about it.

"Oh, that's Jordan. Gerard knows him, I think, but they don't really hang out or anything. He just came over here and started talking to Gerard, so I don't really know what's going on."

I just nodded slowly never moving my eyes from Gerard and his friend.

It wasn't until Gerard said that Mikey didn't have to worry about giving him a ride home, he was going with Jordan, that I realized what was going on. Gerard wasn't just going with Jordan. Gerard was going home with Jordan.

It shocked me when I made the connection. It wasn't until I was at home in bed that it fully dawned on me what "going home" with someone meant. I mean, come on. Gerard was, what, twenty-two now? He was an adult. He could make his own decisions. And if he decided to go home with Jordan then, well, that was his choice.

And that was cool. Right?

I liked to think that I had come a long way from what my parent's tried to make me. I knew what was right and what was wrong, and it depended entirely on the circumstances and the individual. I didn't judge Gerard because he liked guys.

How could I? I was starting to realize that I more than liked one myself.

Judging him would mean that I had to give up my most dangerous secret. And I was not yet ready to do that. You know it. I knew it too.

But there's something about actually vocalizing something that makes it so much more....real, tangible even. Like if you keep it inside, somehow it's not true. If no one knows, then maybe you're just imagining things, and you're safe from the reality of those thoughts, because they are just that -- thoughts.

Fuck.

Who was I kidding?

I'm sure he had to see the shade of green that my face turned when he walked out of that bar, hand in hand with Jordan.

I thought I was going to be sick.