Joseph whispered me sweet nothings
And i fed him Almond Joys
Summer of g*y!
So fruity! So whole!
Summer of g*y!
I realized Angel would be my role!
Mama and Papa didn’t know how well their money was spent
When I learned about love from our production of Rent
Such kissing on the catwalks
Such competition for the leads
We fell in love so often and fully
Across all races and sexualities and creeds . . .
Summer of g*y!
Ended soon! Lasted long!
Summer of g*y!
My heart still carries its song!
Joseph and I didn’t make it to September
But you can’t unlight a g*y-colored ember
I will never go back
To the heterosexual way
’Cause now every day
(Yes, every day)
Is the sum-mer
of g*y!
since i’ve never really listened to musicals, i don’t know if they all sound this g*y, or if it’s just tiny’s. i suspect that i would find all of them this g*y. i’m not entirely sure how this is supposed to inspire me to do anything except join drama club, which right now is about as likely as me asking maura on a date. still, tiny told me i was the first person to hear the song besides his mom, so that counts for something. even if it’s lame, it’s a sweet kind of lame.
It even manages to take my mind off of school and maura for a few minutes. but once i get there, she’s right in front of me, and the mountain reminds me it’s a volcano, and i can’t help but want to spray lava everywhere. i walk right past the place we usually meet up, but that doesn’t stop her. she launches right behind me, saying all the things that would be in a hallmark card if hallmark made cards for people who invented internet boyfriends for other people and then were suddenly caught in the lie.
maura: i’m sorry, will. i didn’t mean to hurt you or anything. i was just playing around. i didn’t realize how serious you were taking it. and i’m a total bitch for that, i know. but i was only doing it because it was the only way to get through to you. don’t ignore me, will. talk to me!
I am just going to pretend that she doesn’t exist. because all the other options would get me expelled and/or arrested.
maura: please, will. i’m really, really sorry.
she’s crying now, and i don’t care. the tears are for her own benefit, not mine. let her feel the pain her poetry desires. it has nothing to do with me. not anymore.
she tries to pass me notes during class. i knock them off my desk and leave them on the ground. she sends me texts, and i delete them unread. she tries to come up to me at the beginning of lunch, and i build a wall of silence that no goth sorrow can climb.
maura: fine. i understand that you’re mad. but i’m still going to be here when you aren’t so angry.
when things break, it’s not the actual breaking that prevents them from getting back together again. it’s because a little piece gets lost - the two remaining ends couldn’t fit together even if they wanted to. the whole shape has changed.
I am never, ever going to be friends with maura again. and the sooner she realizes it, the less annoying it’s going to be.
when i talk to simon and derek, i find out that they vanquished the trigonometric challengers yesterday, so at least i know they’re not still mad at me for ditching. my seat at the lunch table remains secure. we sit there and eat in silence for at least five minutes until simon speaks.
simon: so how was your big date in chicago?
me: do you really want to know?
simon: yeah - if it was big enough for you to bow out of our competition, i want to know how it went.
me: well, at first he didn’t exist, but then he existed and it went pretty well. before, when i told you about it, i was really careful not to use any pronouns, but i don’t give a f**k anymore.
simon: wait a sec - you’re g*y?
me: yup. i suppose that’s the correct conclusion for you to draw.
simon: that’s disgusting!
this is not exactly the reaction i was expecting from simon. i was betting on something a little closer to indifference.
me: what’s disgusting?
simon: you know. that you put your thing in the place where he, um, defecates.
me: first of all, i haven’t put my thing anywhere. and you do realize, don’t you, that when a guy and a girl get together, he puts his thing where she urinates and gets her period?
simon: oh. i hadn’t thought about that.
me: exactly.
simon: still, it’s weird.
me: it’s no weirder than jerking off to video game characters.
simon: who told you that? he whacks derek on the head with his plastic fork.
simon: did you tell him that?
derek: i didn’t tell him anything!
me: i figured it out myself. honestly.
simon: it’s only the girl characters.
derek: and some warlocks!
simon: SHUT UP!
this is not, i have to admit, how i thought being g*y was going to be.
luckily, tiny texts me every five minutes or so. i don’t know how he does it without getting caught in class. maybe he hides the phone in the folds of his stomach or something. whatever the case, i’m grateful. because it’s hard to hate life too much when you have someone interrupting your day with things like
I’M THINKING HAPPY GAY THOUGHTS ABOUT U and
I WANT TO KNIT U A SWEATER. WHAT COLOR? and
I THINK I JUST FAILED A MATH TEST BECAUSE I WAS THINKING OF U 2 MUCH and
WHAT RHYMES WITH SODOMY TRIAL? then
LOBOTOMY VILE? then
BOTTOM ME, KYLE? then
BOTTOMY NILE then
BOTTOMY GUILE! then
BTW—ITS 4 THE SCENE WHEN OSCAR WILD’S GHOST COMES TO ME IN A DREAM
I only know about half of what he’s talking about, and usually that annoys the shit out of me. but with tiny, it doesn’t matter as much. maybe someday i’ll figure it out. and if not, being oblivious could be fun, too. the fatty’s turning me into a softie. it’s sick, really.
he also texts me all the questions about how it’s going, what i’m doing, how i’m feeling, and when is he going to see me again. i can’t help it - i think it’s kind of like it was with isaac. only without the distance. this time, i feel i know who i’m talking to. because i get a sense that with tiny, what you see is how he is. he doesn’t hold anything back. i want to be like that. only without having to gain, like, three hundred pounds to do it.