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Jonah
Sometimes,it takes a real kick in the ass to make you realize just how much you have, even if you don’t have as much as others.
Like, I knew my family was okay. Sure, my mom was a bit nerdy over all things Bowie, and Dad had this embarrassing thing where he broke out his Run DMC song collection at the drop of a hat, and yeah, my sisters could be loud at times, but overall, they were okay.
Then, you ran face first into a situation like Tyler had faced on Christmas Day with his no-good father, and youreallyrealized just how much you have. No, we were not rich or famous—yet, because I had plans—but we had love. There were no issues with any kind of dependency in our home—no abuse, no abandonment, no violence like so many other kids dealt with on the daily.
Maybe my shoes weren’t the newest or my gaming console the shiniest, but, man, was I ever thankful for the solid family unit I had. Seeing that upheaval a few days ago had hit me hard. I’d spent as much time as possible with Tyler to try to counteract the darkness that had arrived on his stoop. He seemed to be lighter now, four days after Christmas, as we hopped on a city bus to meet the guys at a nearby theater that showed only retro flicks to watchDie Hardon the big screen.
“Did you see this?” Tyler asked as we rode along, the bus packed with weary people on their way home from a long day at work. We still had another ten days off school and had plans for every day. It was overwhelming at times—in the best way possible—to have so many friends. I’d never had this kind of friend group before, and it made me feel like I might be a good person deep down to see my friends and followers climbing steadily. Not that you should base how decent a person you are on social media, my mom was always telling me, but I was fifteen, and what my peers thought of mewasimportant. I leaned over to see what had his attention. “Soren just dropped this in the team chat. Seems his dad is setting up some sort of skate for the guys at the new Railers training facility in Dauphin. It’s going to be Ten and Dieter Lehmann for a day. Hey, we should tag Kenji Kelly. I bet Trent will be there too. He’s always where his husband is when he’s not at Rainbow Skate.”
“Oh sure, yeah, go ahead and tag Kenji. He’s cool,” I said, making a mental note of the day and time of this skate session with the Coyotes. “It’s pretty awesome of Ten and Dieter to do that for the team.”
“Yeah, Soren is saying that his dads are trying to get him out away from his stream.” Tyler grinned over at me just as a man behind us coughed up a lung or something.
I winced at the sound. Tyler could have ridden over with Felix, but he had insisted on coming on the bus with me. Mom and Dad were rationing gas right now—the bills for Christmas were about to drop—so it was public transportation for me. Tyler coming along was just… well, it was typical Tyler. Sweet and considerate.
“Hehasbeen streaming non-stop over break,” I conceded as the bus slowed at our stop. I stood up, offered Tyler my hand, and got all toasty warm inside when he took it. Tiny sparks danced up my arm right to my gut. The urge to kiss him was strong, but I’d been working on a cold for a few days, nothing serious, but sniffles, and didn’t want to infect Tyler like my sister Lana had infected me. Kids were so germy.
“Yeah, but he gotLeagues of Battle Knightsfor Christmas, so they should have expected him to stream that hard.”
We exited the bus, ignoring the unhappy looks from a few old people. Maybe they were upset at us being a biracial couple, or that we were two guys holding hands, or that Tyler had pink hair and eyeliner, or that I was wearing green. Who knew, and who the hell cared. Not me. Crusty old farts could glower at us all they wanted. I was proud to be twice the bi.
The old theater was tucked into a strip mall. We jogged across the parking lot, the cold end-of-the-year wind rough on our cheeks as tiny bits of ice scoured our faces. Tyler bounced off me a few times, his shorter legs tangling him up as I pulled him at top speed. We were laughing hard when we burst into the theater lobby, the warm smell of freshly popped popcorn greeting us. Our gang waited for us at the doors of the one and only theater, hands filled with soda, candy, and tubs of buttery popcorn.
“We were about to send out some bloodhounds,” Soren called as Felix sprinkled garlic powder and salt on his popcorn. “Felix, man, I am so not kissing you now.”
“Have some then,” Felix said, dousing his boyfriend’s corn with garlic. “Now we both have troll breath.”
“If I have to sit next to two trolls making out, I’m going to move to another row,” Shaun said, nudging Soren in the side as Felix comically puckered up at his boyfriend. The other guys all joined in on riding Soren about his garlic troll boyfriend as I stepped up to the register and pulled out my wallet.
“Two please,” I said, then heard Tyler stepping up beside me. I glanced down at him. “I got this,” I said firmly before he could offer. “This was my idea. I asked you out. I’m paying.”
“Okay, then I get the snacks.” He was pretty set about that; I could tell by the way he replied.
“Cool.” I bought our tickets, got my tub of corn and a large Coke, then stopped at the popcorn dressing stand to shake some pepper and grated cheese on my popcorn. Tyler added a sprinkle of ranch topping to his.
We filed into the rundown theater as a pack, fourteen teenage boys in JV jackets—well thirteen in JV jackets, as I didn’t have one—then found our seats. The place was pretty much deserted, and so we spread out a bit, tossed our feet to the seats in front of us, and began shooting the shit as some old ass trailers from a hundred years ago played on the dusty screen. Movies likeEscape from New York,48 Hours, and the firstTop Gunset the mood. A few popcorn battles broke out before the movie we had come to see began.
Since we had the theater to ourselves—who other than bored teenaged guys would go out in a sleet and snow storm to eat junk food and jeer at Hans Gruber—we kind of let loose. So much so that the old guy who sold popcorn had to come in with his flashlight and cane to tell us to shut the hell up or we’d get kicked out and miss the ending. Like we didn’t know how this movie ended.
We did settle down after the warning though. Felix and Soren had taken a couple’s seat behind the pack and started making out.
I slid my arm around Tyler’s shoulder, using my left hand to cram popcorn into my face while John McClane was rubbing his bare toes in the carpet. Even with the sound up as loud as it was, it was hard to ignore the two guys going at each other like rabid zombies in the row behind us. Shaun, being the captain, finally turned to face Soren and Felix.
“You two think you can calm the hell down a little?” he asked as he gave the two breathless guys his best serious captain face. “If I wanted to hear that, I would have stayed home with porn and tugged one off.”
“Sorry,” Soren whispered as Felix slunk down in his seat.
Tyler and I exchanged an uncomfortable look. We, then, stared at the screen without saying anything about the heavy petting that had taken place right behind us. I had no clue how far Soren and Felix had gone, and I didn’t want to know, but it was obvious they were for sure closer to doingitthan Tyler and I were. I wasn’t sure how to bring up sex and all of that to Tyler, or if I was ready to go further than kissing. Right now, I was happy to kiss on him and hold him, but what if he wanted more? I peeked to the side. His gaze met mine.
“I’m not in a hurry to do anything,” he whispered into my ear, then pressed a kiss right under it. That warm slippery kiss made me instantly hard, so I shifted my popcorn tub around a bit, smiled back at him, and nodded.
“I’m not either,” I confessed before pecking his cheek. We nestled in as close as we could get, my arm on his shoulder, his head on mine, and spent the next couple of hours yelling quotes at the screen at the same time Bruce Willis said them.
It was the best time out with friends that I could ever recall. And that counted my gang in my old school. The Coyotes were welcoming, fun, and cool as hell. There was no feeling odd about my darker skin, curly hair, or the fact I was holding hands with a femme guy as we raced out of the theater into a winter wonderland.
Our phones all came alive, worried parents asking when they could come pick us up because of snow. It was falling steadily, the flakes big as quarters, the kind of snow my father always said wouldn’t last because only small flakes stuck. I was pretty sure that was BS Dad talk, but who knew. Maybe Dad was a secret snow meteorologist, but I suspected not.
