12. Hank
HANK
Did Nick just come out? Like full-on come out of the closet?
And why is that making my palms sweat and my heart race?
Even though he announced that he was gay in a nonchalant way, and guys took it as such, there’s an energized aura to him that I’m picking up. Nick seems lighter than he did just a few minutes ago, less reserved.
Or maybe he really was confused by all of my teammates being somewhere on the rainbow spectrum.
“I guess we should’ve told you sooner,” I say. Nick’s only been to one practice and one game. Our personal lives didn’t happen to come up. He hasn’t known us that long, even though it doesn’t feel that way.
“It’s fine,” he says with the brightest grin on his lips. There’s a twinkle of confidence in his eye like he figured out the secret of the universe.
“You seem very zen,” I say.
“You ever have those moments where you’re in the exact right place at the exact right time?”
“I guess.” I find myself getting pulled along by his energy.
“What about you, Hank?”
He turns that all-knowing gaze to me, and the nerves jangling in my chest take it up another notch.
“What’s your preference, if you don’t mind me asking?” Nick’s never sounded this playful. I wonder if he’s a little buzzed, too.
“You cut right to the chase.”
“Well, everyone else shared. That leaves you as the token hetero?” Nick is definitely buzzed, but how much is it beer versus…something else.
“I’m actually…I’m a newbie bisexual. A newbisexual”
“Oh?”
“I’ve only dated women. But then I made out with a guy at a New Year’s party, and I liked it.” We were the only two single people at the party, and the guests kept egging us on to kiss at midnight. We both had enough to drink that we decided fuck it. “It’s something I’ve started to explore.”
“Explore how?” His eyes peer into me with unwavering interest, hanging on my answer.
“I went on a few first dates with guys, but that was a while ago, and nothing ever came of it. So…I’m not a very good explorer.”
The corners of his lips turn down. I’m let down by my answer, too.
“Why’d you stop? Wasn’t for you?” Nick wonders.
“It’s not that…” My hands fidget around my beer glass. “Most gay guys or bi guys are, like, jacked. And they’re great dressers. And they wear nice shoes.”
“These are all stereotypes, you know.”
He’s right. I’m stalling. It’s impossible to lie to such a gorgeous face. “I haven’t had good luck with women. And I didn’t want to strike out with guys, too.”
Our teammates are engaged in their own conversations.
The hum of chatter provides a protective wall around our delicate conversation, allowing me to continue.
“Looking back, I think I’ve been attracted to dudes before, but it was easier to just be one of the guys than to admit to myself that I wanted to pursue them.
I know how to be the funny best friend, not the leading man. ”
“So you haven’t been with anyone since that New Year’s kiss?”
I shake my head no and try not to die of embarrassment.
Nick has probably hooked up with lots of guys and had charming, rich boyfriends.
If I admitted that I might be feeling something for him, he’d…
well, he’s too nice of a guy to laugh in my face.
He’d turned me down politely, say it’s best to be friends.
Everyone wants to be friends with the funny best friend.
“Does one kiss make me bi?”
“Yes. On a technicality. Was it a good kiss at least?”
I see-saw my head. “It was okay. He burped while kissing me. I think he had too much sparkling wine.”
“It would’ve been better if it’d been champagne. The burps that come with champagne are more elegant.”
“Exactly,” I say, smiling. I could talk to this guy all day and then the day after that.
Jack Gross, Griffin’s boyfriend, strolls up to our table, and the guys all welcome him. It’s a welcome break from my chat with Nick. He pulls up a chair next to Griffin, who kisses him hello.
“Congrats on the victory,” Jack says. “Next week might be a little tougher.”
“We’re playing the Blades, Jack’s team,” I report to Nick. “We almost beat you guys last time!”
“Almost, Hank. Almost.” Jack smiles haughtily. He’s only in his mid-twenties and is full of bravado and unearned confidence that we all had at his age. “Maybe you’ll get the upper hand this time since Saturday is the Elf’d Up Bar Crawl. My boys and I are going to hit it hard.”
“That’s this coming Saturday?” Griffin asks.
“Yeah, I’m going with some of my Blades teammates and their girlfriends. Twelve bars. No mercy.”
Once upon a time, I would’ve LOVED that. I would’ve hit up all twelve bars, done keg stands at each, and then tried for four more. My stomach was a tank. But the older I get, the worse the hangovers hit my body and the longer they last.
“Their girlfriends are going, too?” Griffin swirls his beer glass in his hands.
“Oh yeah. Same people who went to that concert with us. I don’t think anyone your age is going to the bar crawl.”
“Doesn’t sound like our scene,” Bill says.
“Oh yeah. You guys are way too old.” Jack tosses a peanut into his mouth. “It’s going to be a bunch of drunk twentysomethings falling all over each other and finding bushes to puke in. It’s going to be awesome!”
“We’ll go, too,” Griffin says.
“Wait—we?” Bill asks.
“Yeah, if the Blades are going, then the Comebacks are, too.” Griffin nods defiantly. “I love bar crawls. We can drink your friends under the table.”
“Can we then take a nap under the table?” I ask.
“You want us to drink beer continuously for hours on end? Pass,” Des says.
“Come on, Des. We can go as hard as anyone.” Griffin turns to Jack, kisses him, and cups his cheek. “We’ll be there.”
“Childcare arrangements permitting,” Tanner interjects.
“Childcare arrangements permitting,” Griffin repeats. He points to Nick. “New guy, you in?”
“Hell yeah!” Nick cheers. I didn’t take him for a bar crawl kind of guy, but his energy is undeniably infectious.
“I’m in, too!” I say. Nick and I pound fists. “Bill?”
Bill groans. “I’m in, only so I can babysit you guys and make sure you don’t get wasted.”
“Bring Tate. Send Rowan to a sleepover. You can regale Jack’s friends with tales of boning your assistant.” I love teasing him about that. Bill stares his standard daggers at me.
“You boned your assistant?” Nick asks.
“It’s not like that. Tate and I fell in love one night in Chicago—”
“Save it for bar number eight when we’re all smashed out of our minds,” Des says.
“You’re good with this?” Jack asks Griffin.
“Definitely. Carmen has the girls that weekend. You knew that.”
“I didn’t think you’d want to go. It’s not your scene. You didn’t seem that happy at the concert,” Jack says.
I think back on Griffin commiserating to me about the aftereffects of that concert experience when we picked up the tree.
“Why the fuck would you think that? I had a great time at the concert!”
“You kept covering your ears.”
“I…having one functioning eye heightens my other senses, so I really felt that music.” Griffin adjusts his eye patch. “I had fun then, and I’m going to have a great time at the bar crawl with my boyfriend. You think just because I’m slightly older than you, I can’t keep up?”
Jack studies his boyfriend’s face. I do, too, because Griffdog has officially gone crazy.
“Okay, then. Alright!” Jack lights up and hugs his boyfriend; a flash of panic crosses Griffin’s face when Jack isn’t looking. “This is going to be so awesome! We’ll see who the last man standing is. Get ready to get Elf’d.”
Griffin looks around the table at us, his teammates, his best friends for the last quarter century, as we all silently wonder what the fuck he got us into.
A while back, a Christmas movie was filmed in downtown Sourwood, and I totally understand why. The downtown area has the perfect small town vibe with cute storefronts and a town square complete with Christmas tree. Garland is strung around all the lampposts, and lights rim the storefront windows.
It’s too beautiful for words, and strolling down the street with Nick makes it feel even more special.
“What’s Baltimore like during the holidays?” I ask him.
“Picturesque. Christmas trees everywhere. The smell of hot cocoa wafting from the shops, the sounds of carolers on the street. It’s a winter wonderland in the truest sense of the word.” His gaze is far off, as if he’s right there, in the thick of everything.
“I didn’t think I’d ever hear someone call Baltimore picturesque. That sounds cool. Baltimore as a Christmas destination. I’ll have to check it out sometime. Do you miss it?”
“Around this time of year, yes. It’s my home. Whatever struggles I have with my family, it melts away during the holidays.”
“Why’d you come here if you love Baltimore this time of year?” I would’ve waited a month to visit my cousin, but that’s just me.
“I guess I needed to get out, and it couldn’t wait. I really needed to play hockey.” The corner of his mouth lifts in a charming smile that has no business capturing my heart.
Nick and I are friends, and that’s it. Whatever buzzy feelings are lighting off like fireworks inside me need to chill out.
The comic relief doesn’t get the guy. If Nick fed me a line like the New Year’s guy did— “I’m not looking to date”; “I just want to be friends” —it’d hurt more than the time my sister kicked me in the nuts because she thought guys were lying about it being painful.
Our hands hang dangerously close to each other as we walk. Isn’t there some physics force that compels certain objects together? Inertia? Gravity? Man, I wish I’d paid more attention in class. I’ll ask Brody when I get home.
The rebel in me wants our hands to brush against each other, just to see what would happen. Would we feel a jolt?
An older woman walking in our direction stops and stares at us. With all the queer men in this town, seeing two guys walking together shouldn’t be that surprising. Yet she turns her interest to Nick.
“You look so familiar,” she says to him.
“With so many people in the world, it’s bound to happen,” Nick says.
She stares at him for an extra second. “I swear you look just like—”
“I get that a lot. I have a blandly recognizable face. We gotta get going.” He gives her a pleasant enough nod. Nick presses his hand to my back to get me moving.
And yep, I totally felt a jolt. Although judging by the serious, stoic slant of his eyebrows, I’m the only one who felt anything.
“Who did she think you looked like?” I ask when we round the corner.
“Uh, the guy from Fifty Shades of Grey. Happens all the time.”
The public parking lot is full up with cars. We find my teal blue fifteen-year-old Honda in the middle of the row. Cathy was mortified anytime she had to drive in this. Even after we were divorced, she requested that I not pick up Brody in it. The car still works great, 220,000 miles later.
“The passenger door squeaks for dear life when you open it. That’s normal. It won’t fall off,” I assure Nick.
For some reason, I get the sense Nick has only driven much nicer cars.
“It’d be a fun ride home if it did.”
Nick comes around to my side as I unlock the driver’s side door.
“Hey.” The two dark wells that are his eyes plumb my depths, gazing into me. And before I can ask if he needs anything, he leans forward and plants his lips on mine.
If a hand on my back was a jolt, this is like hugging a wet circuit box. My body sizzles and reconfigures and flits around the known universe. Our mouths open and he slips in the barest hints of tongue, before pulling back.
“Now you can say you’ve had one good, non-burp-y kiss.”
He gets in the car.
I…I need a moment to collect myself. How the hell am I supposed to operate heavy machinery after such a glorious kiss?
I manage to turn on the engine and remember how to operate my car. Gas pedal, break, gear shift. It’s coming back to me.
We don’t speak on the way back to his cousin’s house. I fight to remain neutral. Inside, I’m all giddy smiles.