11. Two Broken Birds #2
Max turned to glare at Bridger. “Why are you ditching us to hang with him all the time?”
The old friends locked eyes. Bridger’s thumbs halted on the controller. Tension sprouted out of nowhere.
“I’m not ditching anyone,” Bridger insisted.
“Yeah. You are. What’s he got that we don’t? He can’t even skate,” Max argued.
“I don’t know why that matters. There’s other shit he’s good at. He built his own skateboard, taught me how to make my own, his dad’s even gonna make more in his—”
“Dude! What the fuck?” Max flew to standing.
Bridger straightened on the couch.
“You think I don’t know what this is?” Max pushed before Bridger could say anything.
Bridger’s brow started to sweat.
Does he think Gus and I are…
What does he mean?
Fuck…
“This Gus kid hits on Tara, steals my best friend, and now he’s trying to put my dad’s shop out of business?” Max ranted, starting to pace, clearly upset.
“…Huh?” Bridger looked up.
“I know his dad owns that furniture shop. They better not start selling boards,” Max threatened.
Bridger laughed in relief. This was… way different than what he expected. “Max, dude, you got it all wrong—”
“You think this is funny?” Max breathed heavily.
“You’re acting nuts, bro,” Bridger said.
Max stepped closer to his friend. “How long have we known each other?”
“I don’t know? A while?”
“A while? How about ten fucking years,” Max spat. “And now you’re turning your back on me for that fag?”
Bridger avoided Max’s gaze.
“Fuck! Why does everyone fuckin’ leave?!” Max swatted his beer off the table. Bridger flinched. “I lost my dad. All my friends go off to fucking college. Tara’s ignoring me. You! The crew! Even my mom is moving on. The fuck?! I’m doing my best here.”
“Max, man. I’m not going anywhere,” Bridger assured, trying to calm him down.
Max sighed heavily in frustration. He stared Bridger down.
Bridger didn’t like how it felt. He doesn’t own me.
“You better not,” Max whispered, poking Bridger’s chest and sitting back down. “We’re the same, me and you.”
Us? The same? What does he mean?
Things got quiet. Intense. Max was now serious beyond measure.
“Nothing fuckin’ breaks us,” he said, leaning close to Bridger.
Max went silent. Almost like he wanted to tell Bridger something more…
His eyes searched Bridger’s gaze, like an angry wounded dog deciding to trust or attack. He looked down at Bridger’s lips, then back up again.
A strange pull had Bridger wanting to move toward Max—that same pull that had brought his lips to Gus’s.
But no. This was very different. This was… scary.
“Fuck!” Max backed away from Bridger. He slumped on the lumpy gaming couch and glared up angrily at the skate shop’s stained white popcorn ceiling. Max felt trapped beneath it, locked in his own rage prison.
“Why do things always go to shit for me?” Max muttered.
Bridger slowly watched Max, unsettled and confused.
“After my pop died, you went real quiet.” Max’s voice cut through the tense air.
Bridger hesitated. “But we skated. Every day.”
“Well, it wasn’t enough.”
Bridger gulped, fully lost on what to say.
~
Gus decided to try the skatepark once again, but Bridger wasn’t there. As he walked back to his dad’s car, he spotted Tara and her friends chatting at the nearby kid’s playground. Sophia was smoking on the bench. Tara and Kelly sat on the swings drinking sodas.
Tara. Gus paused. She told me to open up.
Gus walked briskly toward Tara. As he stepped onto the playground grass, the girls turned to him.
“You’re not skating?” Tara asked.
Gus said nothing at first, lost in his own mind. Tara realized he was still distracted like the other day and waved him over to have a seat next to her.
“Talk to me. You sure you’re okay?” she asked again.
“Yeah,” Gus lied, but stepped up next to her. He leaned in toward her swing, away from Kelly.
“Actually, no,” he whispered. “Can we talk… privately?”
Tara nodded and looked up at her friend.
“Kelly, can you get me some gum from Sophia? I gotta talk with Gus quick.”
Kelly shrugged, grabbed her purse, and went over to the bench with Sophia.
Tara then turned to Gus, waiting for him to speak. They sat in silence as Gus debated how much he wanted to share.
“Bridger and I kissed,” Gus slowly revealed.
Tara gasped and slapped his knee, brimming with excitement. “I knew he liked you!”
Gus shook his head. “But something went wrong. He ran off.”
“Oh. Hmm.” Tara grabbed a lock of her hair and twirled it around her index finger, thinking. “But, I’m glad you told me.”
Gus kicked his feet in the sand. “I think he’s avoiding me now.”
Tara hesitated. “Maybe he’s just scared.”
Gus’s brows knit together. “Scared of what?”
“Losing Max. And you.”
They gently swayed in comfortable silence for a moment. Tara spun a slow circle, twisting the chain of her swing.
“When did you know?” Gus eventually asked. “For sure?”
Tara crossed her arms and smiled. “Know what?”
“That you… liked girls.”
She let out a soft chuckle, glancing away as she thought.
“When the first Spice Girls album came out.” Tara grinned. “I was obsessed. I mean obsessed. Posters all over my room, tons of pictures of Mel B. She was so hot! At first, I thought I just wanted to be like her. But then I realized I wanted to… well, you know.”
Gus thought about his copy of Thrasher and nodded, trying not to blush.
Tara gave Gus a head tilt, then let her swing fully untwist, spinning herself around. She dug her feet in the sand to stop and beamed.
“I couldn’t tell Sophia or Kelly. They liked the Spice Girls too, but not like me. So I avoided thinking I might like girls by dating guys in high school. Then Max finally asked me out. We’d been close for a while already. He was… actually pretty kind back then. So I said yes.”
Gus listened intently as she continued.
“But then someone new transferred to our school. He had painted nails, one earring, and stuck out like a middle finger. Everyone knew he was gay and they bullied him for it, especially Max. One day after class, I asked the guy one question. His response made me know for sure… I was not straight.”
Gus stopped swaying, intrigued. “What did you ask?”
“I asked him…” Tara stretched toward Gus, the chains of her swing taut. A knowing glint lit her eyes. “When did you know you liked boys?”
Gus gaped at her, realization dawning. He had walked right into that one.
Tara laughed and lifted her feet, letting her swing carry her backward again.
“He gave me this look,” she continued, then mimicked it—a look that said, We’re both gay, and you know it.
Tara held this gaze for a moment before adding, “Sometimes we know our answer. We just need a friend to help us see it.”
Gus looked down, his fingers gripping the fabric of his jeans.
“Then! I met this girl named Violet in college. She was a journalism major. We’d stay up talking. All night. One study sesh, she kissed me out of the blue and… that was that. I was gay. For sure. I’d never been more certain about anything in my life.”
“What happened? After the kiss?” Gus asked.
Tara sighed. “She called it an experiment. We never saw each other again.”
“Damn. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. She helped me figure myself out.”
Gus bounced his knee, lost in thought. “What do you think I should do?”
Tara reached between the swing’s chains, placing her hand on Gus’s shoulder. “Find Bridger. Talk to him. Tell him how you feel.”
The warmth of her hand grounded him.
“Just be honest. That’s all you can truly control.”
“Alright. I’ll try.” Gus swallowed hard. “You promise not to tell anyone about us?”
“I would never. That’s your job.” She ruffled his hair affectionately.
“Don’t worry. You’ll figure it out. Tell people, don’t tell people.
Even I can’t tell everyone yet. Max doesn’t know about me.
But soon, you’ll get tired of the secrets.
And that’s when I finally went, Fuck it. ” She shrugged. “I’d rather be me.”
She gave his knee a reassuring pat, then stood up out of her swing.
Gus took a deep breath. He was ready to finally be honest.
But what if Bridger never is?
It was the next day when Gus finally caught Bridger at the skatepark. As he walked toward the concrete, Gus sighed in relief. Bridger stood under the blaring sun, a beacon pulling in a crowd of skater boys. Max and the rest of the crew were watching him do a skate pass.
Gus sat by his tree, deciding to wait to approach when the boys all separated to practice their own runs. It wasn’t long before Bridger rounded a corner and spotted Gus on the grass. He swerved sloppily when he caught Gus’s eye. Then he kicked up his board and stopped skating.
Gus walked up toward his friend, smiling.
“Hey. How’ve you been?” Gus greeted.
“Fine,” Bridger replied tersely, avoiding Gus’s gaze. He checked to ensure the other guys weren’t watching him and pulled Gus to the side.
Things were off. Gus felt it. Uh oh. What do I say?
“Do you… wanna go work in the woodshop tonight? Or can I skate with you?” Gus asked.
“No, I’m actually hanging with the guys today,” Bridger declined distantly.
“Is… something wrong?”
“Gus, I just need time to think. Alone.”
“Okay…” Gus replied, shaken. Why is he talking like this?
There was a long silence.
Is he mad at me?
“Nothing happened between us,” Bridger clarified.
Gus squirmed. Bridger was acting defensive in a way he had never seen before. Gus gulped down new nerves.
“Whatever. It’s not a big deal,” Gus brushed off.
Bridger took a step back.
Gus’s face scrunched up. He forced himself to suppress a new wave of fresh shame.
Bridger could see Gus trying to keep it together. He shifted his weight and looked down.
“I can’t…” Bridger struggled to articulate what he wanted to say. “I can’t let the guys find out what I… what we… did… okay?”
“What… what does that mean?” Gus asked.
“I can’t hang out with you anymore.” Bridger stiffened up. “You… should probably go home.”
Gus said nothing. What did I do? I… ugh. His head fell.
“I’m sorry, Gus,” Bridger apologized weakly.
Bridger walked off, leaving Gus confused and abandoned once again.