Should be but he wasn’t.
“I think you’re the cutest,” I told him. When in doubt, me being sappy with a side of dimples usually did the trick.
“WHAT?!?” Hannah yelled, mouth dropped open.
Hey, she was back.
Oh right. I moved my eyes in front of me. Yep, some of the girls were still there, looking at us curiously, not sure what to make of my words.
Some of them didn’t seem to get what was going on, weren’t sure if I was joking or being weird. Some were confused, though I thought one or two seemed to catch on. Impressions girl, for example, was looking back and forth between us rapidly, like she was putting the pieces together.
“You think he’s cuter?” Hannah questioned skeptically. “Than you?” She didn’t believe that. “Is he dying or something?”
“What? No! I like the way he looks.” A lot of the girls still didn’t buy it, though impressions girl nodded her head. Yeah, she definitely got it. Oh, screw it. “He’s my boyfriend.”
They all froze. Well, the one who imitated me mostly looked proud of herself.
The moment ended and the laughing started again.
They weren’t laughing at me this time. I think? Just laughing a little unsure, a little awkward, a little embarrassed but not really for me, or for me and them, the situation, some of them nudging Hannah, like oh my god, can you believed you liked him.
She tried to glare but then she started laughing too, looking at me like, why didn’t you say something sooner, and like she was including me in the joke. It felt like a thing where they wouldn’t be laughing at us but with us, if only one of us were laughing too, so.
I started laughing.
And then they took a bunch of selfies with me and told me that Ryan and I were sooo cute together and brought us more food from the party while they asked a million questions. I actually kinda had fun. They weren’t gawking at me or making fun of me anymore, at least not gawking at me the same way.
Maybe this wasn’t great, but it was like, hey cool party, you had a gay guy there! Like a form of entertainment. No one man band, no balloon animals, but you did get a gay guy. It was a big deal for them because they never met a gay person before. Or didn’t know if they had.
And it was okay that this was kinda a big deal for them because next time itwouldn’tbe. Next time, it might not be as new and different. It would just. Be normal.
We were in party jail, but I was having a really good time. Or I would have, if Ryan weren’t being weird.
* * *
Nodding my head somewhat with the beat of the music playing, I watched the party in full swing around me. The younger people were dancing and taking a million pictures. All the adults were talking to each other and hugging people they hadn’t seen in a while.
On the edges of the party, it was quieter. There was this bubble where all the action was happening, and there was our little corner that was comparatively still and hushed. Ryan and the word hush normally didn’t go together, unless you were telling him to hush.
Ryan wanted to take his mind off the stuff with his dad. Seemed like his mind was still on it though. His mind wasn’t playing by the rules, but I wasn’t gonna tell him or his mind that.
“You’re being quiet,” I told Ryan.
“Yeah, well you have faults too.” The words were a little sharp but that was still pretty classic Ryan.
“Are you upset?” I asked. Ryan should be quiet because the stars or the planets aligned or whatever and he actually wants to be for one rare moment, not quiet because he’s unhappy. “Look this didn’t turn out all cool and exciting and fun, but.”
Oh man, I wish I knew where I was going with that. Then maybe I would have fought the sudden urge to laugh. I didn’t know where I was going with this, so I didn’t fight it and started laughing.
“Are you actually trying to make this worse?” He looked offended but maybe a little impressed if the answer was yes.
“Ryan, you wanted an experience,” I reminded him, gesturing around us. “This definitely qualifies.” He didn’t look totally convinced, so I added, “Not like I’m any better at party crashing. Even before this.”
I tried to crash a wedding reception once and totally got caught. I told Ryan the story, which was basically, we wanted to. We were at a tournament and had a day off from baseball, and Zach, Joey, and me found out there was a party happening in the reception hall at the hotel. It was the summer before junior year, and we hoped it would have an open bar.
“There wasn’t an open bar,” I told Ryan. “And then Joey decided he wanted to steal a present.”
That had made no sense to me whatsoever, then or now, but Ryan nodded. “Wow, I like the way he thinks.”
