Tommy sat at the table staring quizzically at the taco. He poked it with his index finger and it left a slick greasy residue behind. He'd never seen a taco looking quite so unhealthy for him. He picked it up and took an intrepid bite, and then took another.
"Good, huh?" Graeme asked.
Tommy nodded emphatically and continued eating. It felt good not being at home for a night. There were no odd silences to fill and no instant dinners. His mother hadn't cooked a decent homemade meal as far back as Tommy could remember.
Guy blustered in late, as usual. He was wearing torn jeans and a motley-crue t-shirt with the sleeves ripped off. His light brown hair had been carefully arranged in a spiked pattern around his head. He had two piercings in his right eyebrow and numerous visible tattoos. He leaned over and brushed his lips against his mother's cheek as a greeting accompanied with a, "Hi Mom," before sitting down.
"Don't tell me you two adopted another kid while I was gone." Guy noted Tommy and addressed his parents.
"This is your brother's friend from school," his father replied brusquely.
"Graeme has friends?" Guy arched an eyebrow at his brother who rolled his own eyes dramatically then grinned at him and shook his head.
"This is Tommy," Graeme said.
Tommy nodded between polite forkfuls of refried beans. He found them utterly nauseating, but had set himself to finish them anyway. It was the nice thing to do.
"Tommy is from London. The one in England," Romey Alexander said brightly. "Isn't that fascinating?"
"A lot of people come from London; it's a big city," Guy pointed out, which prompted Tommy to stifle an upwelling chortle.
"But none of them live in Mesquite, Nevada," Romey replied pleasantly.
"Actually, I find myself fascinating quite often," Tommy contributed.
Guy's eyes popped open at Tommy's particular wording, then he grinned as wide as Graeme and chuckled in return.
"Yeah," Graeme vouched for his friend. "Just the other day I was asking him, 'Tom, why do you find yourself so fascinating?' And can you guess what he said?"
"Because I'm from London?" Guy ventured a guess while looking sideways at his mother. Any other inappropriate answers would have to be squashed while she was sitting there.
"Ex-actly," Tommy confirmed with a wide grin.
Romey dissolved into giggles, her face forming into fine wrinkles. She must have been very pretty once, but many years and six boys later she was starting to show a little wear and tear. She wouldn't have done a thing differently, however. She loved all her boys, and she was proud of every single one of them.
"You don't have to make fun of your poor old mother, now," she said good-naturedly.
The boys started to giggle along with her and they all found themselves silly with laughter. The father read the newspaper and ignored them.
****
"Your mum is sweet," Tommy declared as he sat on Graeme's bedroom floor exploring the many mismatched CD towers that inhabited the space. His exploration was occasionally punctuated with Oohs and Aahs, and intermittent grunts of displeasure.
"I know," Graeme admitted. "I wouldn't want any other one. I'm a self proclaimed mamma's boy, and I don't care who knows it." He lay on his back on his bed reading an issue of The Big Take Over.
"We should introduce her to my mum. They'd get along well I'd think." His mother could use some friends, he reasoned in his mind. If she had friends to occupy her time, perhaps she wouldn't spend as much of it trying to force he and his father together. Tommy decided on the Charlatans and slapped an album into the tray of Graeme's CD player.
"Well, she's having a Tupperware party next Thursday. Tell your mom to come over. She could make some friends and buy microwave safe plastic dishes at the same time," Graeme offered.
"She wouldn't mind?" Tommy asked.
"Shit, no," was the emphatic answer. "She gets credit for every sale that's made anyway. The more the merrier, I'd say. We could get those free Jell-O molds if she sells enough, and you know how I love Jell-O"
Tommy chuckled. He really had no idea about Graeme's Jell-O preferences, but he did appreciate the offer.
"I'll tell her then. I think she's lonely for a bit more womanly company." Tommy decided to crank up the stereo as he clicked to the track he wanted to hear. Graeme started to sing along, he knew the words. Tommy didn't remember most of them and ended up replacing them with a bunch of "Las". The harmonic result was surprising.
Guy poked his head up through the attic entrance in the floor. He shouted at Graeme, and Tommy turned down the music.
"Were you going to help me lay down that track tonight?" Guy asked his brother who shrugged and looked towards Tommy.
"You've got a studio?" Tommy's round eyes opened wide in excitement.
"Well, it's sort of makeshift," Guy said trying to keep from sounding too proud. "It's in the former garage. Built it myself. I don't have the most top of the line equipment, but it works and it's fun."
"Don't let him fool you." Graeme sat up. "It's nice. He soundproofed it and everything. You've had some good quality recordings from that room. Too bad your band is shitty."
"Ha, Ha," Guy rolled his eyes. "Really, it's just for my own personal amusement. I have no designs of being a rock star."
Tommy eyed Graeme's brother and thought that contrary was true, and it was just severe lack of opportunity that led to Guy's lack of rock stardom. That and an apparently shitty band.
"Well, C'mon then." Tommy stood up. "You can't possibly sit on your arse and read a magazine when there's music to be made."
"Oh, you obviously you haven't met Graeme," Guy said with a laugh. "He could sit on his arse and read a magazine in a hurricane."
***
"Fascinating," Tommy declared when they'd finished what he was told would be an instrumental. Graeme had been playing a violin serviceably, though it was obviously not his instrument of choice.
"Where did you learn to play?" Tommy asked. He was seated upon an old couch.
Graeme shrugged. "Orchestra class.
"Now, he's Mr. Modesty." Guy rolled his eyes. "They boy is a musical genius. He can play damn near anything that you can throw at him."
"Anybody can 'play' anything," Graeme said, finger quotes around the word play. "It doesn't mean that it sounds good. I play a lot of things badly. I'm not a genius."
"Yeah, but you can fucking play the guitar," Guy pointed out. "You can sit there and tell me you're bad at that."
Graeme blushed. He didn't like when people threw down compliments in his direction. He didn't think he was at all worthy of it, and he didn't know how to react to it beyond a polite "thank you". He wasn't sure of how he was expected to respond, and he would have rather wallowed in the anonymity of mediocrity if that meant he could avoid the embarrassment of gratuitous praise.
"Why didn't you tell me you played?" Tommy asked.
"You didn't ask." Graeme frowned. "It never came up."
"Eh, I was telling you about my band?" Tommy noted the unwarranted look of mortification that settled on Graeme's face and decided to let it go.
"You were in a band?" Guy made himself comfortable in an old folding chair. He was obviously interested in what Tommy had to say.
"Oh, yeah," Tommy replied. "We're pretty good."
"What'd you play?" Guy asked.
"Rhythm guitar, lead vocals," Tommy supplied.
"You can sing?" Guy grinned mischievously.
"If he offers you a spot in his band," Graeme warned, thankful that the spotlight had shifted away from him. "Don't take it."
******
"I've invited someone to sit with us at lunch," Tommy informed Graeme later that week. It was the second quarter and Tommy had a habit of taking his lunch during his study period, and then taking it again the next period. Nobody in authority ever seemed to notice that he'd go missing after roll call.
"Who?" Graeme asked suspiciously. He'd gotten used to the fact that whatever Tommy got whatever he wanted usually, and didn't bother to even protest. He usually had no problem going along with Tommy anyway.
"Hope Candella," was the proud reply. "I really like her. She eats lunch this period."
"Hope?" Graeme stopped in his tracks as they walked down the hall. It was obvious that he'd suddenly become rather distressed. "Why would you invite Hope? How do you even know that girl?"
Tommy regarded his companion curiously. "What do you mean? She's in my health class. What is your problem? I like her, she's nice."
"If I didn't know better I'd think you like her like her," Graeme snorted.
"I do like her," Tommy said rather taken aback by his friend's adverse reaction. "I just said I did, like, four times, didn't I?"
"Well..." Graeme shifted uncomfortably. "Isn't there some hot guy you'd rather be getting it on with? Or something?"
"Graeme, I have not found a man in this god forsaken place that I would ever be attracted to in a million years, if that's what you mean." Tommy frowned. "What did she ever do to you? She's not your ex-girlfriend is she?"
"No," Graeme scoffed at the idea. "She's an Army brat, you know. She'll probably be moving away in a couple months, it's probably best not to get involved."
"All relationships don't involve getting involved," Tommy said.
"Yeah, that's a beautiful sentiment, Tom." Graeme rolled his eyes. "I'm sure Hope feels the same way about that? Her father is a Chaplain!"
"You never know until you try," Tommy stated. "Her father being a Chaplain? All the more reason for her to go out with a guy like me."
"Well, I don't think she'll go out with you," Graeme replied.
"Why not?" Tommy asked, genuinely curious to hear the reasoning behind that statement.
"Because of me," Graeme muttered.
Tommy chucked. "You think she fancies you, do you?"
"No," Graeme spat. "Look, I don't even want to talk about this, can we just go find a spot?"
****
Tommy agreed that it was a wise idea to discontinue the conversation since it appeared that it was going to start going around in a big circle. So they found a spot under the tree in the courtyard and were shortly joined my military brat, Hope Candella.
Hope was quite surprised and nervous to find Graeme was to be eating lunch with them.
"Eutectic is releasing a live album," Graeme said as he ignored Hope's attempts to speak to him, not even acknowledging her presence long enough to say hello. "Also, Lunar Transmission is coming to Vegas, man."
"I told you, I'm not really that keen on Lunar Transmission." Tommy grinned at him.
"C'mon, they're good," Graeme admonished.
"Flash in the pan," Tommy asserted. "I mean, they're all over Britain, Mate. I'd have to say I'm well sick of the press wanking over them."
"Oh, please." Graeme rolled his eyes. "It's just another case of the overwhelming hype monster bestowing unlivable expectations upon new bands. I think they're great."
"Granted." Tommy nodded. "It doesn't make me think they're great. I think their album was overproduced, and you're right; I expect more from a band that is on the cover of the NME every other day. I expect something a bit special."
"Fine." Graeme shrugged. "Have it your way, but I'm still dragging you to Vegas with me."
Tommy sighed. "You are going to make me spend an entire evening in Vegas with you watching a band I don't even like? Who are they playing with?"
"Step Tomas," Graeme supplied. "I haven't heard of them."
"Me either." Tommy shrugged. "I guess I'll go."
"I don't see why you should go," Hope spoke up from her spot even though she'd never heard of either band and couldn't pass judgment on their musical merits.
"I mean," she continued, "If you don't like the band, why spend your money and waste your time?"
They both stared at her as if she were speaking another language. She glanced nervously at her hands and shrugged.
"Sometimes, the music isn't what it's about." Tommy took pity on her confusion and answered her question. "They could put on a stellar live show, I don't know, I've never seen them, and sometimes that's all I might need to change my opinion. Besides, If Graeme wants some company, then it'll probably be fun, cos he's my best mate around here, and he's always good fun."
"Still seems like a waste of money," she persisted.
"You can't put a price on good times with your friends." Tommy said.
"I didn't know you two were friends." She looked from Graeme to Tommy and back again. "I haven't spoken to you since last year." She addressed Graeme. "How have you been?"
"Fine," Graeme spoke. By the cautious tone of voice and the look in his eye, Tommy could tell that Graeme was leery of the girl.
"I've been trying to convince Tom here to come to a meeting," she said. "You think it's a good idea, right, G?"
"A Meeting?" Graeme eyed her. "What like AA? He could use that. Have you ever seen him toss 'em back? He fuckin' drinks Guy under the table and that takes some doin'"
"No, dumbass!" She rolled her eyes. "GSA, Gay Straight Student Alliance."
"Oh," Graeme said. "Well, I don't know."
"I'm not doing it, Hope, I told you," Tommy said. "I'm perfectly happy with myself. I don't need to be in a club."
"Well, maybe you could help someone who's not," she snipped at him.
"Yeah, and maybe I'll sprout wings and fly too," he replied and handed her half of his sandwich. "And as far as I know, there are no actual gay people in your little alliance."
"Yuh-huh," Hope replied as her head bobbed up and down. "There's Andrea, and Jennifer, and Tawney..."
"Tawney?" Tommy interrupted her. "Who names their kid Tawney?"
"A stripper," Graeme replied. They both laughed.
"Stop it, guys," Hope chastised them. "She doesn't like it when people make fun her name, and you're one to talk." She pointed at Tommy
He frowned and stuck his tongue out at her, then held up a hand without looking towards Graeme in order to fend off the impending query. He lowered his hand just as quickly and looked into Graeme's questioning eyes. There was no use trying to hide it, Graeme would pry it out of him sooner, rather than later.
"Thompson Rutherford," he said. "My first name is a last name, and my middle name is just terrible. Laugh now, or forever hold your peace."
Graeme didn't laugh. Instead he clapped Tommy on the back and smiled and declared that it was a pretty cool name.
"Thompson, much better than 'sport'," he said.
Hearing his full name uttered from Graeme's mouth, innocent as it had been, brought back a rush of memories. There was only one other boy who had ever called him that and the thought of him made Tommy feel like he had a vise clamp slowly crushing his heart. He felt light-headed; suddenly short of breath, and he knew why. If he didn't do something, he knew he was going to cry.
"You're not allowed to call me that. Ever," Tommy snapped much more harshly than he had intended.
Graeme, struck by the sudden ferocity of Tommy's dissent, nodded understanding and whispered, "Okay," at him.
"So obviously you know each other," Tommy changed the subject, willing his pulse to slow down before he suffered a nervous breakdown in the middle of the Quad.
"We used to be friends," Graeme glowered. He was glad to have the subject changed even if it was to something more unpleasant for him. He hadn't ever seen Tommy in such an obvious state of discomfort over something so innocuous, and he wasn't sure how to handle it, especially with Hope sitting there taking it all in.
"What happened?" Tommy shifted his gaze back and forth between the two of them.
Graeme pointed towards another girl who was approaching them with her eyes narrowed and a scowl adorning her adolescent features, "That happened." He sighed. He knew it had only been a matter of time before Kathy showed up. She had marked her territory a long time ago, and as far as she was concerned Hope was her friend and therefor Hope was her property.
"What are you doing here?" Kathy stared at Hope. "I thought you were my friend."
"It's Ok, Kath," Hope replied, hoping for a diplomatic end to the situation. "Tom invited me to lunch, and he's letting me eat his sandwich. Forgot my lunch money again, stupid me!"
Kathy rolled her eyes and flipped her hair. "Look, I don't care if you want to hang out with some..." She waved her hand in Tommy's direction searching for the words to describe him. "...Fairy boy. But when you start associating with Graeme Alexander after what he did to me, well, that is just unforgivable."
Tommy grunted angrily at her, but resisted the urge to stand up and give her a piece of her mind. It wasn't his fight, and he didn't feel like getting into one.
"Ok," Graeme finally spoke. "It isn't Hope's fault, she didn't know I'm friends with Tommy. Why don't you just chill out?" He frowned. "Would it make you feel better if I just crawled into a dark hole somewhere and didn't speak to anybody you know? 'Cos if that's what it takes to stop you from hassling me, then I'll just go and do that."
"Yeah, you do that," came her bitter reply.
"Oh, this is all bollocks," Tommy spat. "I don't know what the hell is going on, but I'm sure there's some way you can work this out."
Kathy glared at the Englishman. "This is none of your business, faggot."
"Fucking hell!" Tommy squealed. All of a sudden it had become his fight. He scrambled from his spot on the lawn and stood toe to toe with her. They were the same height. "You don't even know me, fuck you!"
Kathy wasn't interested in getting into a fight with him after all; she was only interested in getting one of her minions to do her bidding. She didn't seem to even remember that she had spouted the epithet in Tommy's direction and subsequently ignored him as if nothing had just happened.
"Look." she sighed impatiently. "I do not need this drama in my life right now. I've got cheer leading and newspaper club and yearbook, and Jose and everything else. I do not need my very best friend hanging out with that lying manipulative bastard." She punctuated her short speech by pointing a finger at Graeme
"Kathy, shut-up," Hope replied, her voice tinged with disgust. "I don't care about your drama. You should just go and think about how ridiculous you're being. We can talk about it later."
"Him or Me?" Kathy demanded.
Hope looked at Tommy who was standing with his fists balled up as he was grinding his teeth, trying to keep from saying anything that he might regret. His blond hair was fluttering lightly in the wind, and his brown eyes were gleaming. Even though she barely knew him, she knew enough to know that she'd like to get to know him better. And Graeme, well, Graeme always had been more fun to be around than Kathy ever was, as well as far less demanding.
"Well, I'm staying here." Hope finally made her decision.
"Suit your self," Kathy huffed. "Just see how many pictures you get in the yearbook, or how many features you get to write in the paper."
"Whatever," Hope replied flippantly.
Kathy growled before turning and stalking away, disappearing into a crowd of people.
"Did you hear what she called me?" Tommy grumbled. "I've never even met that girl. What right does she have?"
"She doesn't," Graeme admitted.
Tommy sat there and poked at the half of his sandwich that he'd saved for himself. His appetite was completely gone.
*****
"Ok, it was a fucked up situation," Graeme told Tommy on the walk towards where his car was parked after school. "Kathy and I were best friends from kindergarten on up, blabitty blab la bla. She went to a Catholic school for a bit in middle school, and we didn't really see much of each other till last year. So we went out for a while. To make a long story short we both changed and were a disaster from the start. I mean, you saw her she's pretty hot, but she's just mean. Mean and really, really stupid. And do you want to talk about self absorbed? She wouldn't let me drive with my windows opened because it would mess up her hair. I wasn't allowed to kiss her on the lips because it would smear her cheap ass lipstick." Graeme seemed to be getting angry just thinking about it. "And you know my air conditioning doesn't work. You think she'd let me open the god-damned windows instead of melting but no. She'd just complain about that too, and she'd bitch, bitch, bitch at me all the time, because I don't wear trendy clothes, or have the latest gadgets or whatever. I just wasn't cool enough. Anyway, she hates me now."
"What you do?" Tommy asked.
"What did I do?" Graeme snorted. "I didn't do anything."
"C'mon," Tommy said. "She can't hate you for nothing."
"Well, Christ, She hates me because I'm a guy, and guys are scum? Right?" He grumbled. "I broke up with her and she didn't have me to boss around anymore."
"That hardly seems like something to get so bitter about," Tommy replied.
"You heard her call you a...that. What makes you think she's not just a giant bitch with a side of evil?"
"You dated her, she must have had some redeemable quality at some point in time," Tommy replied. "Either that or you have horrible taste and are really, really superficial."
"Well, it was probably that we had sex," Graeme admitted. "We so shouldn't have done it, dude. I wasn't ready, and she wasn't ready, and it was lame, but she thought she owned me after that. I think she thought that just because of that I was supposed to be her slave forever. Well, fuck that; it wasn't that great anyway."
Tommy chuckled, "So that's it, touchy subject, eh?"
Graeme stuck his tongue out with a distasteful expression, and that was all the answer that was required.
"She tried to outcast me," Graeme said, his voice softer and lacking in the angry tint that had colored it only moments before. "Not that I was mister popular man before, but she doesn't have that much pull around here. She just think she does. All she is, is a little fish in a big pond, and she won't ever amount to much."
Tommy nodded comprehension. "School politics are a yawn. I've had enough of it at home."
"What happened there?" Graeme replied.
Tommy eyed him, trying to decide whether or not he wanted to share the entire incident with the American. He decided it couldn't hurt anybody since the chances of Graeme ever meeting the parties involved was less than zero.
"There was this woman who was rather hostile towards a relationship I was in at the time. Basically, she found out, and I was expelled. Good bye posh education, hello United States of America." Tommy sighed. He wanted to get the entire story out, but he didn't know how to confess it all to Greame without the possibility of him freaking out. Despite Graeme's assertions that he didn't care about Tommy's sexuality, it still made Tommy uneasy to talk about it with him.
"I'm sorry," Graeme replied. "That sounds horrible."
"It was," Tommy agreed. "The woman has a vendetta against me. And you know, I didn't need that. I was just trying to suss things out myself. It doesn't matter in the long run anyway. He chucked me, for some bird."
Graeme made a sympathetic groaning noise, and Tommy despite his earlier misgivings was spurred on by his friend's interest. Or rather, the fact that Graeme wasn't shying away from the subject in any way.
"Basically she thought I was the sole reason that he's gay," Tommy snorted. Even after time had passed, the whole situation was nearly unbelievable to him. "I mean, I may be blindingly gorgeous and irresistible, but I'm not that good for Christ's sake."
"Yeah." Graeme nodded. "I'll have to agree with you on that count."
"And I know he just started seeing that girl, because dear old mum wanted him to." Tommy crossed his arms. They had reached the vehicle and Graeme climbed into the passenger's seat to the driver's side. Since the doors were broken, it had become a ritual. Both of them wanted to avoid awkwardly crawling over each other. Tommy climbed in after him and immediately lit a cigarette. They sat in silence for a while as Graeme drove. Tommy was thinking about his ex boyfriend. Graeme was thinking about his ex girlfriend. Eventually conversation came back around.
"Did you love Kathy?" Tommy asked. "I mean, ever?"
"No," Graeme replied. "I doubt it."
"Well, don't do it. Don't ever fall in love." Tommy sighed and tossed the remains of his cigarette onto the side of the road as they traveled.
"Why not?" Graeme asked. As a hopeless romantic he thought the prospect of being in love was an exhilarating idea.
"Because, nobody will ever hurt you as much as the ones you love," he replied. "And on that remarkably depressive note, I was wondering if I could ask you just one question."
"Go for it, Scout," Graeme replied with an impish grin.
Tommy growled at him before continuing.
"Is Hope seeing anybody?" He asked with glint in his eye. "Cos I think she's brilliant."
***
So Tommy asked Hope out, and she said yes.
Dating was strange to Tommy at first. With Richard it hadn't been. Aside from their disastrous foray to the cinema, dating Richard wasn't all that much different than being his friend. They had skipped the awkward "getting to know each other" phase since they had spend the three years prior doing just that. Hope, on the other hand, was someone Tommy knew nothing about. Luckily she wasn't hard to talk to and had the ability to fill any awkward pauses with cheerful, easy banter. It was a relief that things were going well.
Hope was a lovely girl, and he genuinely enjoyed her company. His mother seemed to be overjoyed that he was dating a girl. Perhaps she was a little too excited about it, but Tommy was determined not to dwell on the possible idea that his Mother might think he was better off, or that he had gone through a phase with Richard. Neither one of them was a phase as far as Tommy was concerned. That assessment wouldn't have been fair to either of them, or to Tommy. He liked them both in different ways. There was something missing with Hope, though, and it had everything to do with him. He tried his best to hide it, and there was no shortage of chemistry with her, but the fact remained that he was still in love with Richard Blume. It might have been easier if they had at least spoken, yet every call to Nigel led to small talk about the band and nervous declarations that Richard was "fine". It wasn't enough, and Tommy didn't believe it anyway.
"Good, huh?" Graeme asked.
Tommy nodded emphatically and continued eating. It felt good not being at home for a night. There were no odd silences to fill and no instant dinners. His mother hadn't cooked a decent homemade meal as far back as Tommy could remember.
Guy blustered in late, as usual. He was wearing torn jeans and a motley-crue t-shirt with the sleeves ripped off. His light brown hair had been carefully arranged in a spiked pattern around his head. He had two piercings in his right eyebrow and numerous visible tattoos. He leaned over and brushed his lips against his mother's cheek as a greeting accompanied with a, "Hi Mom," before sitting down.
"Don't tell me you two adopted another kid while I was gone." Guy noted Tommy and addressed his parents.
"This is your brother's friend from school," his father replied brusquely.
"Graeme has friends?" Guy arched an eyebrow at his brother who rolled his own eyes dramatically then grinned at him and shook his head.
"This is Tommy," Graeme said.
Tommy nodded between polite forkfuls of refried beans. He found them utterly nauseating, but had set himself to finish them anyway. It was the nice thing to do.
"Tommy is from London. The one in England," Romey Alexander said brightly. "Isn't that fascinating?"
"A lot of people come from London; it's a big city," Guy pointed out, which prompted Tommy to stifle an upwelling chortle.
"But none of them live in Mesquite, Nevada," Romey replied pleasantly.
"Actually, I find myself fascinating quite often," Tommy contributed.
Guy's eyes popped open at Tommy's particular wording, then he grinned as wide as Graeme and chuckled in return.
"Yeah," Graeme vouched for his friend. "Just the other day I was asking him, 'Tom, why do you find yourself so fascinating?' And can you guess what he said?"
"Because I'm from London?" Guy ventured a guess while looking sideways at his mother. Any other inappropriate answers would have to be squashed while she was sitting there.
"Ex-actly," Tommy confirmed with a wide grin.
Romey dissolved into giggles, her face forming into fine wrinkles. She must have been very pretty once, but many years and six boys later she was starting to show a little wear and tear. She wouldn't have done a thing differently, however. She loved all her boys, and she was proud of every single one of them.
"You don't have to make fun of your poor old mother, now," she said good-naturedly.
The boys started to giggle along with her and they all found themselves silly with laughter. The father read the newspaper and ignored them.
****
"Your mum is sweet," Tommy declared as he sat on Graeme's bedroom floor exploring the many mismatched CD towers that inhabited the space. His exploration was occasionally punctuated with Oohs and Aahs, and intermittent grunts of displeasure.
"I know," Graeme admitted. "I wouldn't want any other one. I'm a self proclaimed mamma's boy, and I don't care who knows it." He lay on his back on his bed reading an issue of The Big Take Over.
"We should introduce her to my mum. They'd get along well I'd think." His mother could use some friends, he reasoned in his mind. If she had friends to occupy her time, perhaps she wouldn't spend as much of it trying to force he and his father together. Tommy decided on the Charlatans and slapped an album into the tray of Graeme's CD player.
"Well, she's having a Tupperware party next Thursday. Tell your mom to come over. She could make some friends and buy microwave safe plastic dishes at the same time," Graeme offered.
"She wouldn't mind?" Tommy asked.
"Shit, no," was the emphatic answer. "She gets credit for every sale that's made anyway. The more the merrier, I'd say. We could get those free Jell-O molds if she sells enough, and you know how I love Jell-O"
Tommy chuckled. He really had no idea about Graeme's Jell-O preferences, but he did appreciate the offer.
"I'll tell her then. I think she's lonely for a bit more womanly company." Tommy decided to crank up the stereo as he clicked to the track he wanted to hear. Graeme started to sing along, he knew the words. Tommy didn't remember most of them and ended up replacing them with a bunch of "Las". The harmonic result was surprising.
Guy poked his head up through the attic entrance in the floor. He shouted at Graeme, and Tommy turned down the music.
"Were you going to help me lay down that track tonight?" Guy asked his brother who shrugged and looked towards Tommy.
"You've got a studio?" Tommy's round eyes opened wide in excitement.
"Well, it's sort of makeshift," Guy said trying to keep from sounding too proud. "It's in the former garage. Built it myself. I don't have the most top of the line equipment, but it works and it's fun."
"Don't let him fool you." Graeme sat up. "It's nice. He soundproofed it and everything. You've had some good quality recordings from that room. Too bad your band is shitty."
"Ha, Ha," Guy rolled his eyes. "Really, it's just for my own personal amusement. I have no designs of being a rock star."
Tommy eyed Graeme's brother and thought that contrary was true, and it was just severe lack of opportunity that led to Guy's lack of rock stardom. That and an apparently shitty band.
"Well, C'mon then." Tommy stood up. "You can't possibly sit on your arse and read a magazine when there's music to be made."
"Oh, you obviously you haven't met Graeme," Guy said with a laugh. "He could sit on his arse and read a magazine in a hurricane."
***
"Fascinating," Tommy declared when they'd finished what he was told would be an instrumental. Graeme had been playing a violin serviceably, though it was obviously not his instrument of choice.
"Where did you learn to play?" Tommy asked. He was seated upon an old couch.
Graeme shrugged. "Orchestra class.
"Now, he's Mr. Modesty." Guy rolled his eyes. "They boy is a musical genius. He can play damn near anything that you can throw at him."
"Anybody can 'play' anything," Graeme said, finger quotes around the word play. "It doesn't mean that it sounds good. I play a lot of things badly. I'm not a genius."
"Yeah, but you can fucking play the guitar," Guy pointed out. "You can sit there and tell me you're bad at that."
Graeme blushed. He didn't like when people threw down compliments in his direction. He didn't think he was at all worthy of it, and he didn't know how to react to it beyond a polite "thank you". He wasn't sure of how he was expected to respond, and he would have rather wallowed in the anonymity of mediocrity if that meant he could avoid the embarrassment of gratuitous praise.
"Why didn't you tell me you played?" Tommy asked.
"You didn't ask." Graeme frowned. "It never came up."
"Eh, I was telling you about my band?" Tommy noted the unwarranted look of mortification that settled on Graeme's face and decided to let it go.
"You were in a band?" Guy made himself comfortable in an old folding chair. He was obviously interested in what Tommy had to say.
"Oh, yeah," Tommy replied. "We're pretty good."
"What'd you play?" Guy asked.
"Rhythm guitar, lead vocals," Tommy supplied.
"You can sing?" Guy grinned mischievously.
"If he offers you a spot in his band," Graeme warned, thankful that the spotlight had shifted away from him. "Don't take it."
******
"I've invited someone to sit with us at lunch," Tommy informed Graeme later that week. It was the second quarter and Tommy had a habit of taking his lunch during his study period, and then taking it again the next period. Nobody in authority ever seemed to notice that he'd go missing after roll call.
"Who?" Graeme asked suspiciously. He'd gotten used to the fact that whatever Tommy got whatever he wanted usually, and didn't bother to even protest. He usually had no problem going along with Tommy anyway.
"Hope Candella," was the proud reply. "I really like her. She eats lunch this period."
"Hope?" Graeme stopped in his tracks as they walked down the hall. It was obvious that he'd suddenly become rather distressed. "Why would you invite Hope? How do you even know that girl?"
Tommy regarded his companion curiously. "What do you mean? She's in my health class. What is your problem? I like her, she's nice."
"If I didn't know better I'd think you like her like her," Graeme snorted.
"I do like her," Tommy said rather taken aback by his friend's adverse reaction. "I just said I did, like, four times, didn't I?"
"Well..." Graeme shifted uncomfortably. "Isn't there some hot guy you'd rather be getting it on with? Or something?"
"Graeme, I have not found a man in this god forsaken place that I would ever be attracted to in a million years, if that's what you mean." Tommy frowned. "What did she ever do to you? She's not your ex-girlfriend is she?"
"No," Graeme scoffed at the idea. "She's an Army brat, you know. She'll probably be moving away in a couple months, it's probably best not to get involved."
"All relationships don't involve getting involved," Tommy said.
"Yeah, that's a beautiful sentiment, Tom." Graeme rolled his eyes. "I'm sure Hope feels the same way about that? Her father is a Chaplain!"
"You never know until you try," Tommy stated. "Her father being a Chaplain? All the more reason for her to go out with a guy like me."
"Well, I don't think she'll go out with you," Graeme replied.
"Why not?" Tommy asked, genuinely curious to hear the reasoning behind that statement.
"Because of me," Graeme muttered.
Tommy chucked. "You think she fancies you, do you?"
"No," Graeme spat. "Look, I don't even want to talk about this, can we just go find a spot?"
****
Tommy agreed that it was a wise idea to discontinue the conversation since it appeared that it was going to start going around in a big circle. So they found a spot under the tree in the courtyard and were shortly joined my military brat, Hope Candella.
Hope was quite surprised and nervous to find Graeme was to be eating lunch with them.
"Eutectic is releasing a live album," Graeme said as he ignored Hope's attempts to speak to him, not even acknowledging her presence long enough to say hello. "Also, Lunar Transmission is coming to Vegas, man."
"I told you, I'm not really that keen on Lunar Transmission." Tommy grinned at him.
"C'mon, they're good," Graeme admonished.
"Flash in the pan," Tommy asserted. "I mean, they're all over Britain, Mate. I'd have to say I'm well sick of the press wanking over them."
"Oh, please." Graeme rolled his eyes. "It's just another case of the overwhelming hype monster bestowing unlivable expectations upon new bands. I think they're great."
"Granted." Tommy nodded. "It doesn't make me think they're great. I think their album was overproduced, and you're right; I expect more from a band that is on the cover of the NME every other day. I expect something a bit special."
"Fine." Graeme shrugged. "Have it your way, but I'm still dragging you to Vegas with me."
Tommy sighed. "You are going to make me spend an entire evening in Vegas with you watching a band I don't even like? Who are they playing with?"
"Step Tomas," Graeme supplied. "I haven't heard of them."
"Me either." Tommy shrugged. "I guess I'll go."
"I don't see why you should go," Hope spoke up from her spot even though she'd never heard of either band and couldn't pass judgment on their musical merits.
"I mean," she continued, "If you don't like the band, why spend your money and waste your time?"
They both stared at her as if she were speaking another language. She glanced nervously at her hands and shrugged.
"Sometimes, the music isn't what it's about." Tommy took pity on her confusion and answered her question. "They could put on a stellar live show, I don't know, I've never seen them, and sometimes that's all I might need to change my opinion. Besides, If Graeme wants some company, then it'll probably be fun, cos he's my best mate around here, and he's always good fun."
"Still seems like a waste of money," she persisted.
"You can't put a price on good times with your friends." Tommy said.
"I didn't know you two were friends." She looked from Graeme to Tommy and back again. "I haven't spoken to you since last year." She addressed Graeme. "How have you been?"
"Fine," Graeme spoke. By the cautious tone of voice and the look in his eye, Tommy could tell that Graeme was leery of the girl.
"I've been trying to convince Tom here to come to a meeting," she said. "You think it's a good idea, right, G?"
"A Meeting?" Graeme eyed her. "What like AA? He could use that. Have you ever seen him toss 'em back? He fuckin' drinks Guy under the table and that takes some doin'"
"No, dumbass!" She rolled her eyes. "GSA, Gay Straight Student Alliance."
"Oh," Graeme said. "Well, I don't know."
"I'm not doing it, Hope, I told you," Tommy said. "I'm perfectly happy with myself. I don't need to be in a club."
"Well, maybe you could help someone who's not," she snipped at him.
"Yeah, and maybe I'll sprout wings and fly too," he replied and handed her half of his sandwich. "And as far as I know, there are no actual gay people in your little alliance."
"Yuh-huh," Hope replied as her head bobbed up and down. "There's Andrea, and Jennifer, and Tawney..."
"Tawney?" Tommy interrupted her. "Who names their kid Tawney?"
"A stripper," Graeme replied. They both laughed.
"Stop it, guys," Hope chastised them. "She doesn't like it when people make fun her name, and you're one to talk." She pointed at Tommy
He frowned and stuck his tongue out at her, then held up a hand without looking towards Graeme in order to fend off the impending query. He lowered his hand just as quickly and looked into Graeme's questioning eyes. There was no use trying to hide it, Graeme would pry it out of him sooner, rather than later.
"Thompson Rutherford," he said. "My first name is a last name, and my middle name is just terrible. Laugh now, or forever hold your peace."
Graeme didn't laugh. Instead he clapped Tommy on the back and smiled and declared that it was a pretty cool name.
"Thompson, much better than 'sport'," he said.
Hearing his full name uttered from Graeme's mouth, innocent as it had been, brought back a rush of memories. There was only one other boy who had ever called him that and the thought of him made Tommy feel like he had a vise clamp slowly crushing his heart. He felt light-headed; suddenly short of breath, and he knew why. If he didn't do something, he knew he was going to cry.
"You're not allowed to call me that. Ever," Tommy snapped much more harshly than he had intended.
Graeme, struck by the sudden ferocity of Tommy's dissent, nodded understanding and whispered, "Okay," at him.
"So obviously you know each other," Tommy changed the subject, willing his pulse to slow down before he suffered a nervous breakdown in the middle of the Quad.
"We used to be friends," Graeme glowered. He was glad to have the subject changed even if it was to something more unpleasant for him. He hadn't ever seen Tommy in such an obvious state of discomfort over something so innocuous, and he wasn't sure how to handle it, especially with Hope sitting there taking it all in.
"What happened?" Tommy shifted his gaze back and forth between the two of them.
Graeme pointed towards another girl who was approaching them with her eyes narrowed and a scowl adorning her adolescent features, "That happened." He sighed. He knew it had only been a matter of time before Kathy showed up. She had marked her territory a long time ago, and as far as she was concerned Hope was her friend and therefor Hope was her property.
"What are you doing here?" Kathy stared at Hope. "I thought you were my friend."
"It's Ok, Kath," Hope replied, hoping for a diplomatic end to the situation. "Tom invited me to lunch, and he's letting me eat his sandwich. Forgot my lunch money again, stupid me!"
Kathy rolled her eyes and flipped her hair. "Look, I don't care if you want to hang out with some..." She waved her hand in Tommy's direction searching for the words to describe him. "...Fairy boy. But when you start associating with Graeme Alexander after what he did to me, well, that is just unforgivable."
Tommy grunted angrily at her, but resisted the urge to stand up and give her a piece of her mind. It wasn't his fight, and he didn't feel like getting into one.
"Ok," Graeme finally spoke. "It isn't Hope's fault, she didn't know I'm friends with Tommy. Why don't you just chill out?" He frowned. "Would it make you feel better if I just crawled into a dark hole somewhere and didn't speak to anybody you know? 'Cos if that's what it takes to stop you from hassling me, then I'll just go and do that."
"Yeah, you do that," came her bitter reply.
"Oh, this is all bollocks," Tommy spat. "I don't know what the hell is going on, but I'm sure there's some way you can work this out."
Kathy glared at the Englishman. "This is none of your business, faggot."
"Fucking hell!" Tommy squealed. All of a sudden it had become his fight. He scrambled from his spot on the lawn and stood toe to toe with her. They were the same height. "You don't even know me, fuck you!"
Kathy wasn't interested in getting into a fight with him after all; she was only interested in getting one of her minions to do her bidding. She didn't seem to even remember that she had spouted the epithet in Tommy's direction and subsequently ignored him as if nothing had just happened.
"Look." she sighed impatiently. "I do not need this drama in my life right now. I've got cheer leading and newspaper club and yearbook, and Jose and everything else. I do not need my very best friend hanging out with that lying manipulative bastard." She punctuated her short speech by pointing a finger at Graeme
"Kathy, shut-up," Hope replied, her voice tinged with disgust. "I don't care about your drama. You should just go and think about how ridiculous you're being. We can talk about it later."
"Him or Me?" Kathy demanded.
Hope looked at Tommy who was standing with his fists balled up as he was grinding his teeth, trying to keep from saying anything that he might regret. His blond hair was fluttering lightly in the wind, and his brown eyes were gleaming. Even though she barely knew him, she knew enough to know that she'd like to get to know him better. And Graeme, well, Graeme always had been more fun to be around than Kathy ever was, as well as far less demanding.
"Well, I'm staying here." Hope finally made her decision.
"Suit your self," Kathy huffed. "Just see how many pictures you get in the yearbook, or how many features you get to write in the paper."
"Whatever," Hope replied flippantly.
Kathy growled before turning and stalking away, disappearing into a crowd of people.
"Did you hear what she called me?" Tommy grumbled. "I've never even met that girl. What right does she have?"
"She doesn't," Graeme admitted.
Tommy sat there and poked at the half of his sandwich that he'd saved for himself. His appetite was completely gone.
*****
"Ok, it was a fucked up situation," Graeme told Tommy on the walk towards where his car was parked after school. "Kathy and I were best friends from kindergarten on up, blabitty blab la bla. She went to a Catholic school for a bit in middle school, and we didn't really see much of each other till last year. So we went out for a while. To make a long story short we both changed and were a disaster from the start. I mean, you saw her she's pretty hot, but she's just mean. Mean and really, really stupid. And do you want to talk about self absorbed? She wouldn't let me drive with my windows opened because it would mess up her hair. I wasn't allowed to kiss her on the lips because it would smear her cheap ass lipstick." Graeme seemed to be getting angry just thinking about it. "And you know my air conditioning doesn't work. You think she'd let me open the god-damned windows instead of melting but no. She'd just complain about that too, and she'd bitch, bitch, bitch at me all the time, because I don't wear trendy clothes, or have the latest gadgets or whatever. I just wasn't cool enough. Anyway, she hates me now."
"What you do?" Tommy asked.
"What did I do?" Graeme snorted. "I didn't do anything."
"C'mon," Tommy said. "She can't hate you for nothing."
"Well, Christ, She hates me because I'm a guy, and guys are scum? Right?" He grumbled. "I broke up with her and she didn't have me to boss around anymore."
"That hardly seems like something to get so bitter about," Tommy replied.
"You heard her call you a...that. What makes you think she's not just a giant bitch with a side of evil?"
"You dated her, she must have had some redeemable quality at some point in time," Tommy replied. "Either that or you have horrible taste and are really, really superficial."
"Well, it was probably that we had sex," Graeme admitted. "We so shouldn't have done it, dude. I wasn't ready, and she wasn't ready, and it was lame, but she thought she owned me after that. I think she thought that just because of that I was supposed to be her slave forever. Well, fuck that; it wasn't that great anyway."
Tommy chuckled, "So that's it, touchy subject, eh?"
Graeme stuck his tongue out with a distasteful expression, and that was all the answer that was required.
"She tried to outcast me," Graeme said, his voice softer and lacking in the angry tint that had colored it only moments before. "Not that I was mister popular man before, but she doesn't have that much pull around here. She just think she does. All she is, is a little fish in a big pond, and she won't ever amount to much."
Tommy nodded comprehension. "School politics are a yawn. I've had enough of it at home."
"What happened there?" Graeme replied.
Tommy eyed him, trying to decide whether or not he wanted to share the entire incident with the American. He decided it couldn't hurt anybody since the chances of Graeme ever meeting the parties involved was less than zero.
"There was this woman who was rather hostile towards a relationship I was in at the time. Basically, she found out, and I was expelled. Good bye posh education, hello United States of America." Tommy sighed. He wanted to get the entire story out, but he didn't know how to confess it all to Greame without the possibility of him freaking out. Despite Graeme's assertions that he didn't care about Tommy's sexuality, it still made Tommy uneasy to talk about it with him.
"I'm sorry," Graeme replied. "That sounds horrible."
"It was," Tommy agreed. "The woman has a vendetta against me. And you know, I didn't need that. I was just trying to suss things out myself. It doesn't matter in the long run anyway. He chucked me, for some bird."
Graeme made a sympathetic groaning noise, and Tommy despite his earlier misgivings was spurred on by his friend's interest. Or rather, the fact that Graeme wasn't shying away from the subject in any way.
"Basically she thought I was the sole reason that he's gay," Tommy snorted. Even after time had passed, the whole situation was nearly unbelievable to him. "I mean, I may be blindingly gorgeous and irresistible, but I'm not that good for Christ's sake."
"Yeah." Graeme nodded. "I'll have to agree with you on that count."
"And I know he just started seeing that girl, because dear old mum wanted him to." Tommy crossed his arms. They had reached the vehicle and Graeme climbed into the passenger's seat to the driver's side. Since the doors were broken, it had become a ritual. Both of them wanted to avoid awkwardly crawling over each other. Tommy climbed in after him and immediately lit a cigarette. They sat in silence for a while as Graeme drove. Tommy was thinking about his ex boyfriend. Graeme was thinking about his ex girlfriend. Eventually conversation came back around.
"Did you love Kathy?" Tommy asked. "I mean, ever?"
"No," Graeme replied. "I doubt it."
"Well, don't do it. Don't ever fall in love." Tommy sighed and tossed the remains of his cigarette onto the side of the road as they traveled.
"Why not?" Graeme asked. As a hopeless romantic he thought the prospect of being in love was an exhilarating idea.
"Because, nobody will ever hurt you as much as the ones you love," he replied. "And on that remarkably depressive note, I was wondering if I could ask you just one question."
"Go for it, Scout," Graeme replied with an impish grin.
Tommy growled at him before continuing.
"Is Hope seeing anybody?" He asked with glint in his eye. "Cos I think she's brilliant."
***
So Tommy asked Hope out, and she said yes.
Dating was strange to Tommy at first. With Richard it hadn't been. Aside from their disastrous foray to the cinema, dating Richard wasn't all that much different than being his friend. They had skipped the awkward "getting to know each other" phase since they had spend the three years prior doing just that. Hope, on the other hand, was someone Tommy knew nothing about. Luckily she wasn't hard to talk to and had the ability to fill any awkward pauses with cheerful, easy banter. It was a relief that things were going well.
Hope was a lovely girl, and he genuinely enjoyed her company. His mother seemed to be overjoyed that he was dating a girl. Perhaps she was a little too excited about it, but Tommy was determined not to dwell on the possible idea that his Mother might think he was better off, or that he had gone through a phase with Richard. Neither one of them was a phase as far as Tommy was concerned. That assessment wouldn't have been fair to either of them, or to Tommy. He liked them both in different ways. There was something missing with Hope, though, and it had everything to do with him. He tried his best to hide it, and there was no shortage of chemistry with her, but the fact remained that he was still in love with Richard Blume. It might have been easier if they had at least spoken, yet every call to Nigel led to small talk about the band and nervous declarations that Richard was "fine". It wasn't enough, and Tommy didn't believe it anyway.
