31
Slowly but surely, Tean’s panic was starting to mount.
“Because it looks stupid,” Daniel said. His voice had taken on a shrill note and was steadily getting louder. “What don’t you understand?”
“I understand,” Tean said. Calmly. Patiently. Like an adult. “But I need more information. What don’t you like? What can we do differently?”
“It. Looks. Stupid!” And then Daniel scrubbed his hands through his hair, messing up Tean’s latest attempt at a look that didn’t qualify as stupid. When he finished, his cheeks were red, and his chest was rising and falling rapidly. “Never mind. I’m not going.”
“I know you’re frustrated. But yelling at me isn’t helping. It’s making me feel bad.”
Frustration twisted Daniel’s face, and it looked, for a moment, like he might yell some more. But then his features smoothed out—some—and he nodded and mumbled, “Sorry.”
“We’ll figure it out. Maybe Justin can help.”
And in that instant, the furious mask was back again, and Daniel stared at Tean like he might be the stupidest person Daniel had ever met. “Justin and I broke up,” he said in clipped, offended tones. And then he added an exasperated, “God. Where’s Jem? He said he’d help.”
“Something happened” was as close as Tean could come to an honest explanation. “Why don’t we get you dressed, and after that, we’ll try your hair again? I’ll watch some videos.”
Daniel sulked off into the spare bedroom—and slammed the door behind him—and Tean collapsed, exhausted, onto the sofa next to Scipio.
The Lab was watching everything with his head on his paws, but now he rolled onto his side, pressing up against Tean.
Tean stroked the Lab’s chest and stomach, and the dog wiggled and stretched and managed to take up about six more inches of the sofa.
When Tean took out his phone, he wasn’t expecting a message from Jem. And there wasn’t one, so whether he expected one or not, it didn’t matter. He went to YouTube, typed good hair boys and then, after trying to decide if it was homophobic or not, added gay.
There were a lot of teenage boys with their shirts off.
“Oh my God,” Daniel said. “What are you looking at?”
“Nothing! I wasn’t— Did you—” Tean squirmed around. “I thought you were getting dressed.”
Daniel had changed into his outfit: a button-up shirt and slacks in powdery pink, completed by a tulle skirt that couldn’t have been longer than four inches.
Although it was impossible to say that Daniel was underdressed—he was covered from wrists to ankles—he was also practically undressed; the tight fabric put every inch of him on display.
He’d added a gold chain around his neck that Tean didn’t remember, and he was holding a clump of what appeared to be fairy lights. “How do these go on?”
“I don’t know,” Tean said. Daniel was starting to get that look again, so Tean hurried to add, “But we can figure it out.”
And it turned out, there was a YouTube video on adding fairy lights to an outfit.
Fortunately, it mostly involved safety pins, which Tean had with the laundry supplies.
While Daniel provided feedback—often unnecessarily, and at great length—Tean began securing the fairy lights in place: around his arms and chest and then riding the waves of tulle.
Daniel switched on the battery pack, and the lights began to glow.
The boy studied himself in the mirror. Tean waited for something—excitement, hopefully, or the kind of eager pride that Daniel still occasionally demonstrated, and which made him seem so much younger.
Frustration or disappointment were also distinct possibilities, especially based on how today had gone.
But Daniel only stared at himself. He looked tired.
“You’re very handsome,” Tean said.
Daniel didn’t say anything.
After a moment, Tean said, “Why don’t we try these lights up here a little more?”
He unfastened a pin and shifted the lights, and as he secured them in place again, Daniel said, “Tean?”
“Yes?”
Silence dragged out. And then Daniel said in a small voice, “I don’t want to be somebody else. I just want to be me.”
“It’s very hard to be yourself,” Tean said. But he realized that diving into Sartre probably wasn’t what Daniel had intended, so he said, “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know.” After a moment, though, Daniel touched the chain at his neck.
“Everybody at Rainbow House is all right, but sometimes, it’s like they want me to be the same as them.
How I dress. How I talk. I don’t even know what my pronouns are, but Justin just kept asking me, so I had to say something.
” He was turning the chain now, sliding it against pale skin.
“I spent so long being who my parents wanted me to be. Being who I was supposed to be at church. I don’t want to do that again. ”
“That’s very insightful of you. And very wise. People in groups always want other people to conform, because that’s what being in a group is all about. It’s not easy for many of them to understand why you might want to be different.”
“Is that why you don’t act like a gay guy?”
The question startled a laugh out of Tean. “I think I don’t act like a stereotype, if that’s what you mean. I am a gay guy, so however I act, that’s how this gay guy acts.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I’m not interested in most of the things that mainstream gay culture focuses on.” And then, because it might help, he added, “I’m weird, Daniel.”
“You’re not weird.”
Tean laughed again. “I’m pretty weird.”
“Jem says you know you love someone when you think they’re the most special person you’ve ever met.”
The rush of tears made Tean blink, but he thought he managed to keep his voice even as he said, “That’s a beautiful way to think about it.
” He tugged on the lights. “I’d also point out that you’re still young, and in many ways, you’re still figuring yourself out.
It’s okay to try on different personalities and interests. It’s good to figure out what you like.”
“I like masc guys,” Daniel said without missing a beat. “Especially the super ripped ones.”
“Uh, I meant more like hobbies—”
“But I also like older guys, and they don’t have to be ripped. Dad bods are hot.”
“Let’s stay on topic,” Tean said. “Do you not like this outfit? Do you want to find something different?”
“I don’t know. I look good, I guess. And Justin will go crazy. Do you think I should wear it?”
A knock came at the door. Scipio whuffed, and then the whuff turned into a full-on bark, and the Lab eased himself off the sofa and began to prance in front of the door. Tean said a silent prayer to whatever god was in charge of saving him from teenage boys and went to answer it.
Jem stood on the porch. He was still dressed in the clothes he’d worn the day before, and he had dark circles under his eyes.
His smile, when he tried it, trembled at the corner of his mouth and then vanished.
He’d taken the time to fix his hair, and something about that made Tean’s eyes sting, and he had to fight for a moment before he trusted himself to say, “What are you doing? Why are you standing out there?”
Jem shrugged. He dropped his gaze. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to…”
But he trailed off.
As low as he could, Tean said, “Don’t be silly. This is our home; come inside.”
But a beat passed before Jem stepped over the threshold, and Tean caught himself moving backward automatically, keeping distance between them. He caught a whiff of soap, which meant Jem had showered somewhere. Slept somewhere. A hotel? A friend’s house? A hookup?
That last thought slipped into Tean’s thoughts despite his best efforts.
“I think if we try the comb again—” Daniel was saying as he came down the hall. And then he said, “Where were you? Tean can’t do my hair.”
“Something came up,” Jem said, and he gave the boy a once over, obviously taking in the tulle and the fairy lights. “Holy shit, Danny. How gay are you?”
A huge grin splashed across Daniel’s face, and then it was gone, and in a voice that actually sounded pleased he said, “You’re an asshole. Come help me.”
He retreated down the hall, and Jem turned a questioning look on Tean.
“Ammon’s picking him up in fifteen minutes,” Tean said. “We’ve had four separate meltdowns about his hair.”
“Yeah, because it looks like shit. Didn’t he show you that video I sent him?” Something on Tean’s face must have reminded Jem that they weren’t exactly out of the woods, because he said, as a question, “I guess I’ll go help him?”
“That would be great.”
“Why’s Ammon picking him up?”
“I wasn’t sure—” Tean hesitated. “I didn’t think I could take him on my own.”
Unhappiness darkened Jem’s eyes, and he said, “I’m sorry about yesterday.”
“I’m sorry too.”
The jagged end of a laugh broke free from Jem. “What do you have to be sorry about? You didn’t show up having a full-on green-out, and you didn’t make a complete asshole of yourself.”
“Jem,” Tean said. But he didn’t know what to say after that.
“I know we need to talk about it more. I just wanted to say I’m sorry. And I love you.”
“I love you too,” Tean whispered.
Jem leaned in, lips parted, and hesitated. Tean moved to meet him, and the kiss was short, Tean’s lips dry. Jem’s breath tasted like mint. Someone else’s toothpaste.
“I’m waiting!” Daniel shouted from the back of the house.
“Oh my God,” Jem said under his breath. His volume rose as he headed for the back of the house. “Who raised you to be an ungrateful little queen?”
“My two gay uncles,” Daniel sang back in a falsetto.
Tean decided he and Scipio could leave them to it, but before he could get to the sofa, Daniel called, “I need help with my makeup!”
“He means you,” Jem clarified. “I’ve got my hands full.”
So, Scipio trailed after Tean as he made his way to the hall bathroom. Daniel was sitting on the closed lid of the toilet, while Jem stood over him, the two of them bickering as Jem worked some sort of cream through Daniel’s hair.