"Boy, you are a drama queen." Mike laughs, interrupting me.
"Look, you brought this up. Are you gonna sit there and laugh at me or do you really want to hear this?"
"I'm sorry. I'll be good."
I take a deep breath and continue.
"Mike, growing up with a secret like mine makes you feel like a freak surrounded by a whole world of normal people. It's just not fair. Not only did I have to grow up gay, but I was also cursed with absolutely no talent or desire to play any of the popular stuff like football or baseball. If it hadn't been for you I still wouldn't know how to throw a ball today. How the fuck was I supposed to try and fit in with everyone else? If I had grown up athletic like you, you and I would have been friends from the very start. It would have been you and me, from
t-ball all the way on up to the varsity team, and you probably wouldn't have ever known my secret because then, I would have been playing the game just like everyone else. I wasn't blessed with choices like you were. I had to find a home with the only crowd that would take me and as you know, the Boy George wanna-be's of the drama group were somewhere on par with the math club geeks on the food chain of popularity.�
I pause as a particularly painful memory comes to mind.
"You know your friends used to spit on me Mike? They would back me up against the lockers, spit on me and call me a �fucking faggot� in front of an entire hallway full of strangers."
"They were assholes Grayce. You weren't missing anything not being part of that crowd."
"Yes I was Mike. I was missing being automatically popular just for being tall and good-looking. Missing being invited to every party and social occasion. Missing being talked about behind my back in good way. Missing having girls giggle as I walk by and getting laid by any of 'em I wanted. I was missing having teammates respect me as an essential and valued member of a team. But mostly, I was missing being looked up to and worshipped by the other 75% of the student body population of Oak Park-River Forest High School simply because God was good to me.
"It wasn't so perfect for me Grayce. I had a tough time too."
"That's always so easy for people like you to say Mike, 'cause you weren't on the outside looking in. But here's the test. If you had it all over to do again would you even consider trading places with me?"
Mike looks down into his beer.
"I didn't think so. I'm telling you this because I don't think you know just how much my life changed the day you knocked me down that stairway. Do you remember that?"
Mike smiles at the recollection. "I was late for football practice and you were late for play rehearsal. God! I thought I'd killed you! Or at least cracked your skull open."
"Holy shit man! Are you O.K.?"
The handsome jock runs down to the bottom of the stairwell where I've landed flat on my back after a full-on collision. I look up at him from the pile of books and homework strewn around me, vaguely recognizing him. He's definitely a member of the schools elite, but which one, I don't know.
"Dude, I'm so sorry! Are you sure you're O.K.? You think you can get up?"
I nod dazedly. He offers his right hand, thumb up, fingers slightly curved, jock-handshake style. We lock hands and he slowly pulls me up, using his other hand underneath my shoulder.
"I'm really sorry about this. How's your head? Did you hit it hard? Let me see." he says placing his hand on the back of my head and feeling gently around. "Dude, sorry to tell you, but you're gonna have one hell of a lump back here if you don't ice it soon. Right here, see?" I reach back and our fingers meet. Sure enough, I can feel a golf ball growing out of the base of my skull.
"Look at me, let me see your eyes." I look up and meet the most beautiful pair of deep-set aqua eyes I have ever seen on a member of the male species. "Doesn't look like you have a concussion but you better go to the nurse anyway. You want me to help you there?"
"No, that's O.K., I can make it just fine." I say as I begin picking up my things. He bends down to help me, picking up books and papers, stacking them neatly.
"I think I know you. You're Grayce Connors aren't you?"
I nod.
"I saw you in Dracula last year. I thought you were really good. You should have been the lead."
I'm stupefied that this God-of-the-school would even know my name much less remember me from a play. "Well, Renfield is a better part anyway. You can have more fun with it." I reply.
"Yeah, but if you had played Dracula you would have gotten to kiss my sister." He says laughingly, handing me the stack of books and papers he has put together.
