Ok, trial run time again (and this time as my usual beta reader/cheer leader/hand holder is on holiday with added nerves!)
The photo prompt....
I was almost bouncing in the seat as the coach pulled
into the station. Catching sight of him through the rain, standing on the
pavement beneath the black umbrella, the fluttering feeling in my stomach
exploded, like a million butterflies would erupt from my throat as soon as I
opened my mouth.
I’d spent a lot of time on the two hour journey
remembering New Years Eve, the night we’d met.
Until that night I had always considered that I’d been
unlucky. I mean, take my genetic makeup
for example, it was as if, should there was a supreme creator who decides these
things, then they were really having a bad day when I was conceived, as
evidenced by the fact that I have so far struggled through my life as a short
sighted, heavily freckled, ginger haired, gay computer geek.
Whilst I’d ditched the milk bottle glasses for
contacts at 15, around the same time I came out to my family and friends, the
ginger hair remained the bane of my life.
I got far more grief over being a ginger than I did over being gay,
particularly at school. It didn’t help
that I was tall and skinny, preferring books and computers to sports.
I was about
thirteen when I’d realised I preferred boys over girls, but it took another two
years for me to become comfortable enough with this knowledge before I shared
it with anyone else. The core group of
my school friends, my fellow computer nerds if you will, more or less just
accepted my coming out without comment, but gossip spreads, no matter how
careful you are about who you tell, and before long it was pretty common
knowledge at school. Even then the
taunts were usually along the lines of me being the four eyed ginger nut.
All this probably also goes some way to explain why,
at the age of 18, I spent New Year’s Eve at my great aunt Mabel’s 80th
party in the local church hall, rather than out clubbing with my friends. Well, no probably not, because really
clubbing isn’t really something my friends and I go in for, and if I hadn’t
gone to the party I’d probably be on my own, sitting in front of the computer
in my bedroom.
Family occasions when I was younger were fun, running
around with my cousins high on too much fizzy pop and sweets until we crashed
out in a corner, usually where the coats had been abandoned. As I’d got older though I’d rebelled against
having to attend yet another boring family do, one in which I would no doubt
end up bickering, and possibly fighting, with those self same cousins I’d once
played with. I had tried to argue with
my parents that I would be happy to spend New Year’s Eve at home, that all my
friends, well the virtual ones, would be on line and I could see the New Year
in with them. When my skills at persuasive argument failed to impress I
attempted humorous sarcasm and finally resorted a bout of teenage sulking, but
mother put her foot down for once and insisted.
The weather forecast had threatened a frosty night,
but by nine o’clock the hall was crowded and uncomfortably warm, a buzz of
chatter clashed with the drone of easy listening background music someone had
put on the stereo. After I’d done the
obligatory rounds to say hello to everyone, and in an effort to avoid the
inevitable questions about how college was going and whether I had found a
girlfriend yet, the older generation preferring to think my being gay was a
phase I was going through, I’d grabbed a couple of bottles of beer from the
drinks table and slunk to the far end of the hall. For a second I thought about slipping out the
emergency exit but catching mum’s eye, and the sharp shake of her head when I
went towards the door, I slumped down onto the steps that led up to the
curtained off stage area; content to drink alone with just my own thoughts on
what a miserable time I was having for company.
I’d almost reached the bottom of the second bottle and
was beginning to get a bit of a buzz when I got a prickly sort of feeling, as
though I was being watched. Looking up I
expected to find myself subject to the disapproving glare of one of the
parental units, disappointed at my anti-social behaviour once again. It wasn’t.
My cousin Lily, the closest in the family to me in age, was walking
purposefully towards me, with her a girl and boy of about the same age, neither
of which I recognised.
“Hi cuz,” Lily’s eyes sparkled with mischief and I
pulled myself to my feet to meet her head on.
We’d turned from inseparable allies as kids into bitter enemies during
our early teens, when our respective parents had resorted to keeping us at opposite
sides of the room when ever we met. We’d
called a truce more recently, the pair of us growing up at last, much to our
family’s relief.
“Lily,” I countered, raising my bottle in a mock
salute.
“These are my Uni friends, Sam, who I am in halls with
and his sister Jules, they’re staying for the holidays as there parent’s are
skiing. Guys, this is my cousin Aiden.”
“Hi,” Sam stepped forward and offered his hand to me.
“I’m her pseudo-boyfriend for the duration.”
“Her what?” I stuttered as I took hold of his
hand. His face was framed by short,
artfully messed, hair which not as bright red as my own was definitely ginger. Brown eyes sparkled at me as he raised his
eyebrows. I just stared, he was
extremely cute.
“Pseudo-boyfriend,” he repeated with a huge grin, not
letting my hand go or breaking eye contact.
It was probably only for a few seconds that we stood there but it felt
like longer, with the curse of the fair skinned I could feel heat rising in my
face as I blushed beneath my freckles.
“I need to talk to you,” Lily’s words finally broke
the connection. With a glance round the
room she flitted quickly up the steps and behind the thick dark blue velvet
curtains of the stage. Sticking her head back round she hissed at us, “Come on,
quickly.”
It was very dark behind the curtain, light seeping in
round the edges from the main hall. With
no seating we settled onto the stage, Sam sitting to my left with Lily and
Jules opposite. I frankly stared as Jules reached out and pulled Lilly closer
to her and then looped her arm round her shoulder. Lily lent into her for a second then pulled
herself up straight but not out of Jules’ embrace.
“Pseudo-boyfriend, do you get it now?” Her question held something of a challenge.
“I, erm...” To give myself time to think before I
replied I lifted the bottle to my lips only to discover it was empty. Setting it down in front of me before I
continued, “Yeah, I get it Lils, your gay too.”
“Well, kind of, I’m bi,” she admitted with the hint of
a grin the challenge in her expression fading.
“Since when?” the question seemed to fall out of my
mouth before I thought about it, what the hell did it matter how long?
“Not that long,” she acknowledged her smile widening
as she turned to look at Jules. “It came as a bit of a surprise to me too. I hadn’t really ever thought about it and,
well, Jules came to visit Sam earlier in the term, it just kind of happened. We’ve been together for about three months
now.” She shrugged as she finished
speaking.
“Have you told your parents? I mean, they must
know....” I looked between the three of them as the light suddenly dawned. “Ah, pseudo-boyfriend, your parents think
you’re going out with Sam?” I didn’t
know whether to feel annoyed or upset by her deception, I mean, it wasn’t
exactly fair on Sam.
“Yes,” Lily looked at the floor as she continued. “It
was easier this way, I wasn’t ready to tell them, I, well, heard stuff, I mean,
when you...”
“What stuff?”
“The family,” she continued to study the floor for a
while before raising her eyes to meet mine.
“When you came out,” she continued with a sigh. “I know your parents were fine with it, but,
well mine, and some of the others, particularly the aunts, they, well, weren’t
very nice about it.”
“Not nice?” I hissed.
I stared at Lily, shocked by her words. I had always
felt like I had had the easiest coming out possible, certainly compared to some
of the stories I’d heard from other gay friends or that I’d read about online. I hadn’t planned to come out when I did, it
just kind of happened. There we were
enjoying a family Saturday evening, sitting in the lounge watching TV and as
the credits to Dr Who started I just blurted it out.
My parents had been fantastic, not making a big issue
of it, telling me that it was fine and that they loved me, and that was
it. I am not sure how the rest of the
family found out, though I strongly expect that my mother told most of them
herself, knowing her to show that she was proud of me and that I had her
support. I’d never heard anything
negative from the family and I wondered if my parents had shielded me from that
or whether it was something they knew nothing of either.
In the silence I felt a warm hand reach offer and take
hold of mine, giving it a gentle squeeze but not letting go. The anger that had
been building seemed to fade away, as though that simple gesture offered me
support.
“I’ll go get us some more drinks,” Jules rose to her
feet as she spoke, “you two both on beer?”
I nodded and assumed Sam did too, I didn’t look away from Lily.
“No,” she said eventually. “My parents aren’t like
yours. I, well, daren’t, not yet
anyway. I want to, but, I’m just not
ready.”
“I’m not the first in the family, if rumour is to be
believed?” I reminded her.
“I know,” Lily nodded.
The family legend was an old one. Lily and I shared a maternal grandmother
whose youngest sister, Dora, had, during the war, taken in a woman lodger whose
own home had been destroyed by enemy bombing. After peace was declared and
Dora’s husband Eric was demobbed her lodger, Agnes, didn’t leave and for a
while the three of them shared the house.
A few years later Dora and Eric divorced, causing a family scandal all
by itself, and she and Agnes lived together for the rest of their lives. Most of the family believed that they’d
fallen in love during the war and remained together as a couple, though some
did try and argue they’d just been friends.
“Fair enough,” I conceded, telling people had to be
Lily’s decision. “For what it’s worth,
you’ve got my support. I’m not so happy
with the pseudo-boyfriend thing though.” I admitted glancing back at Sam who
still held onto my hand.
“I volunteered,” he offered with a shrug. “My sister and I have both been out for
years, our parents avoid the issue by generally not being available, hence the
skiing trip whilst we are home from Uni.
We know what it’s like not to have supportive parents, I mean could
probably have coped if it was just one of us, but when we both came out I think
they felt it was a reflection on their parenting rather than, well, genetics.
So when Lily invited us to stay for New Year it just seemed like the best way
round it.”
I hadn’t really needed any clarification that Sam was
gay too, my gaydar may be underused and a little out of tune but it had
definitely pinged when I’d first seen him and, after all, he was sitting here
with his hand clasped in mine.
Jules returned, bearing the promised bottles and we
sat around on the dusty stage floor talking as we drank. They told me of the fun they were having at
university and I told them of my incredibly boring part time job as a sales
assistant which helped keep me busy when I wasn’t in college.
Whether it was the alcohol or the sense of camaraderie
I found myself frequently looking at Sam, sometimes catching him watching me;
we both blushed far too easily. Lily and
Jules sat opposite; wrapped in each others arms. Occasionally when I caught her eye Lily smiled
back looking particularly pleased with herself.
I couldn’t blame her, she was obviously very happy with her girlfriend.
As midnight approached, from the other side of the
curtain, the background music was switched over to the radio station where the
count down started for the New Year, accompanied by the chants of the family.
10, 9, 8
Their arms still wrapped around each other Jules and
Lily rose to their feet, lost in their own world.
7, 6
I glanced towards Sam and our eyes met, rather
unsteadily we scrambled from the floor.
5, 4
I couldn’t seem to break eye contact as we reached out
towards each other
3, 2
Without thinking about what I was doing I wrapped my
arms around him, I could feel my heart hammering in my chest
1
“Happy New Year,” we whispered at each other and
without thinking our mouths joined together in a very promising kiss.
That was two months ago. We met the next day for coffee and talked for
hours, and whilst we've been in contact by text and phone, this is the first
time we've seen each other since New Year.
This weekend I get to spend the whole weekend with him, and I feel like
my luck has definitely changed for the better.
The coach pulled up a short way from where Sam stood
and I slung my bag over my shoulder as the door opened with a hiss. He obviously hadn’t seen me as he was still watching
the passengers from the coach in front disembark. I crept up behind him and ducked under the
umbrella. He jumped slightly as I snaked
my left arm around his waist and I leant into him, resting my chin on his
shoulder.
“Hi,” I whispered looking up at him as he broke into a
smile. Yes, right then I felt like the
luckiest guy in the world.
