When Love Beckons

I sat outside on the bleachers with Lauren after school, sucking on a cigarette and watching the soccer team hopefuls stretching their muscles, with Coach Reynolds surveying them. Riley was among them.

Lauren, who had caught me staring intently at him, smiled and nudged me with her foot, which nearly sent me off the bleachers. “Why don’t you ask him out, lover boy?”

I cast her an annoyed look and blew out a puff of smoke. “Because…”

“Because that’s not your thing?”

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t think of a comeback for that just yet. She was right; asking guys out wasn’t my thing. I was always the one being asked out, not the other way around.

“Why not give it a shot, Devin? I mean, really. He has to be gay. Even if he’s not, you could turn any straight guy gay for a night.”

There was nothing especially good-looking about me. Black hair and light blue eyes, and my bottom lip pierced as a sign of rebellion against my parents - not like they noticed. There wasn’t anything bad about me either; no acne scars and not freakishly skinny or fat. But not as good-looking as Lauren said I was.

“Give it a rest, Lauren,” I sighed, pushing my butt off the row and leaning my back against the one behind me, tilting my head up and closing my eyes.

Lauren had made herself my personal matchmaker and was determined to set me up with a guy before Winter Break. “I don’t know why you want to me to get a guy. It’s not like I could take him home for Christmas.

I heard her sigh above me. “Yeah, I know. But it’s not like you spend Christmas at home anyways.”

She had a point there. When my dad was gone, occasionally during Christmas, my mom drank herself into a haze that lasted until after school started again. I usually went over to Lauren or Bailey’s house with my baby sister, or spent a few nights in a hotel. When my dad was in town, I unfortunately had to spend it with them.

Talking about my family wasn’t a very comfortable subject for me, so I dropped my death stick and crushed it under my heel, than sat up at the shrill sound of a whistle to watch tryouts. If it weren’t for Riley, I probably wouldn’t be here.

“He’s nice,” I commented to Lauren, who glanced at me.

“What do you mean?”

“I showed him around school today – I had first hour with him so I offered. He moved here from Seattle.”

She smiled and shook her head. “From Seattle to Astoria? Why would he want to do that?”

“Something about his dad’s business, I think. Or mom’s, I dunno.” From the way he talked about them, he adored both of his parents; either he hadn’t come out to them and wasn’t feeling any qualms about lying, or he had and they were one of the rare parental units that accepted what their son was. I wish mine were like that.

“He leave a boyfriend at home?”

“Jesus, Lauren!”

“Okay okay!” There wasn’t a tone of defeat in her voice, but I hoped that she would at least shut up for now.

“Look. You can play matchmaker if you want to, just don’t scare him off, okay? He’s a nice guy, I’d be happy just being friends with him.”

“You ‘just friends’ with a guy? Dev, that’s as impossible for you as it is for Bailey to—“

“Lauren!”

“Sorry!”

I sighed and nestled down against the bleachers, toning my ears out to anything else Lauren might have to say.

~*~*~*~

Riley did have a good body; the soccer shorts and the way he ran was enough to tell. And he played ball good; they wouldn’t find out who had made it until tomorrow, and while I didn’t know much about soccer, I figured the coach would be an idiot (well, more so then he already was) not to choose him.

When tryouts were over, I was at the fence to greet Riley as he ambled over, sweaty and flushed.

“Hey.” He sounded surprised to see me, but not unhappy. I moved aside to let him drop his bag on to the bench and dig through it in search of a water bottle and towel. He plopped down beside it, watching as he mopped his face.

“You were really good,” he said, and he smiled almost sheepishly as he brushed his hair out of his eyes. So cute.

“Thanks,” he said, a little embarrassedly. “I’ve been playing since I was five or so.”

“Five!” I exclaimed, and he laughed at my surprise. “Well, it shows.”

He smiled at me and shoved his bag aside, then dropped down on the bench and unscrewed the top of his water bottle to take a drink. After he had swallowed at least half of its contents, he wiped his mouth and looked at me.

“So what are you doing here?”

I pretended to look hurt. “Are you saying you’re not glad to see me?”

“No! I am, I’m just wondering—“

Smiling, I shook my head. “I’m just kidding. I came here to watch you play.”

“Really?”

I nodded solemnly. “Really.”

“I hope the coach picks me.”

“Of course he will! He wouldn’t pass up skills that good, even if you were new. The coach is an idiot, but not that stupid.”

He smiled at my unflattering notion of the coach. “You think so?”

“I know so.”

“Devin!”

I looked over my shoulder and saw Lauren standing at the railing of the bleachers, waving at me.

“We’re going to Denny’s! You wanna come?”

I glanced at Riley and tilted my head. “So what about it?”

He smiled at me and stood. “I’m game.”

“Great!” I jumped to my feet and shouted at Lauren that both Riley and I were coming.

“Do you think I could change first?” Riley asked, smelling his shirt with a look of distaste, making me chuckle.

“Sure. You got a ride home?” When he shook his head, I offered to take him. After he agreed, I told him to gather up while I trotted over to the bleachers to tell Lauren.

“I’m taking Riley home to change. We’ll meet you there in an hour?”

“Oh, so he’s taking you to his house now? That’s gotta be a record, even for you.”

I rolled my eyes and pushed her along, before I waited for Riley, who trotted up to me a few minutes later, his bag over his shoulder.

“Ready?” I asked, and he nodded.

I led him through the chain-link fence that surrounded the far edges of the track and was close to the parking lot. A few groups of students loitered around against their cars and on the steps, and none of them paid us any mind as we headed towards my car, a silver ’05 V6 mustang.

“This is your car?” Riley asked, his green eyes wide as I unlocked the car, which simultaneously started the engine – the wonders of modern technology.

“Yeah, it’s my baby,” he said, fondly patting the top of the car as I slid inside. “Just dump your stuff in the back.” After recovering, he did as he was told, tossing his bag over his shoulder into the backseat before he slipped in beside me. I turned the blaring radio down before backing out of my parking space and leaving the parking space.

“Where do you live?”

“Maple Hills,” he replied, studying the inside of my car with interest.

“It was a birthday present,” I told him, hoping that he wouldn’t think my parents just got it for me for the hell of it. They had allowed me to choose my 16th birthday present, and I had chosen a car – anything to get me out of the house.

“Wow,” he breathed. “Your parents must be loaded.” Realizing that it maybe wasn’t the most delicate thing to say, he hastily apologized, but I waved them off.

“Don’t be sorry. It’s no big deal.” But talk of my parent’s money was never that comfortable.

We filled up the time from the school to his house with idle conversation; he was very eager to know about me, but the one thing I avoided most was talk of my parents. His parents, however, were the exact opposite of mine. He had two other siblings, both younger then himself – twins, in fact – and came from as close-knit a family as anyone could imagine. He said nothing about his preference, but neither spoke of girlfriends he had left behind in Seattle. That was one thing to hope, right?

“Turn here,” Riley said, and I did as instructed, turning down a nice neighborhood lined with two-story houses and neat gardens in front. Maple Hills was a quaint neighborhood; nothing like Chapel Way, where I lived, but decent.

Riley’s house was similar to the others; two-stories, brick and wood, with a chain-link fence separating the backyard from the front; I could see half of a jungle gym from where we were, and a bed of flowers lined the fences. A veranda wrapped around the front of his house, complete with a swinging bench and a wicker chair.

“This is cute,” I said as I turned the engine off and got out of the car, slipping my keys into my pocket.

“Thanks,” Riley said as he swung his bag over his shoulder. “We’re still unpacking, so it might be a little messy.”

I assured him that I didn’t mind messiness, and he led me up the two steps that led to the porch and through the front door.

“Mom! I’m home!”

A middle-aged woman, her dark blond hair done up in a ponytail, came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. She was dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, a few spots white from bleach.

“How was school?” she asked, then, seeing me, smiled and gave her hair, which stuck out in wisps, an embarrassed little pat. “Is this one of your friends?”

Riley glanced at me, and I smiled. Taking that as a good sign, he nodded. “Yeah. His name’s Devin.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Mathews,” I said politely.

“I’m so glad Riley’s met someone. We don’t know anyone here. I’m sorry for the mess, things are still hectic around here.”

“It’s no problem,” I promised her. “I understand.”

“Is there anything to do around here?” she asked, swabbing at a spot on the counter with her washcloth.

I considered the question, sipping on my glass of lemonade. “The beach is a good place to hang out,” I said at last. “The mall here is pretty good too, nothing to faint over, but not so bad either.” I was thinking of family-friendly places; I didn’t mention the numerous gay bars and clubs where I could get in with a fake I.D. and charm drinks out of the bartenders. I didn’t think she’d appreciate that.

Hearing footsteps on the stairs, I turned to see Riley ambling down, dressed in a clean t-shirt and jeans and dragging his fingers through his curls. Fixing himself a glass of lemonade, he plopped on the stool beside me.

“Hey mom, Devin asked me out with some of his friends tonight.” Asked him out? I wish.

“That’s fine with me, as long as you’re home by 11.” While it might sound absurd, I almost – almost – wished my mom cared enough about me to issue a curfew. I might not obey it, but at least it would be there.

“Thanks.” Tossing back half of his drink, he slipped off the stool and kissed her cheek, then waited for me to polish off my own before following.

“Curfew at 11, huh?” I asked as I unlocked the car and got inside, slamming it shut behind me and shoving the keys into the ignition.

“Yeah,” he smiled, buckling himself in. “I haven’t done anything for her not to trust me.” He paused, and there was a glint of mischievousness in his eyes. “Yet.”

I sincerely wished I could change that, I thought as I backed out of the drive and turned down the neighborhood. Patience wasn’t always a virtue I had.