Definitely Not Gay (Harringrove)

Rain

Steve

The doorbell rings. I open it expecting to see Nancy. It's Billy.

"What do you want now?"

He's soaking from the rain and is cowering like a dejected puppy.

"Shit. Come in?" I open the door wide.

He walks in, dripping on the mat. "Can I borrow your car?" His voice is desperate and not at all like the cocky Billy I knew from this morning.

But it's still Billy. "Absolutely not."

"Please! I was supposed to drive Max home from school but I forgot because my car broke and I had to ride with you, but now it's dark outside and Max isn't home and Dad is gonna kill me!"

"Okay, umm, first of all, calm down." I look at his shivering form and soaked clothes. "Second, follow me."

I'm suddenly insecure about my whole romantic setup for Nancy as we walk past the living room with flower petals sprinkled on the ground, candy and popcorn in bowls on the coffee table, and blankets on the couch. I've never really had my dates examined from an outside perspective.

I lead him to my room. I pull out sweatpants, fuzzy socks, and a sweater. Then I go into my bathroom and grab a towel from the cupboard. I set them all on the edge of the tub.

"You should dry off and get changed so you don't get sick. Cause you look really bad right now. I would give you underwear, too, but that might be a little weird. You can just go commando."

He stares at me blankly.

"Oh, and..." I tear off a trash bag from the roll in my cabinet. "this is for your wet clothes. I'll leave you to it."

I hop on my bed as he gets changed. I cannot believe Billy Hargrove is in my bathroom. He's probably naked right now.

Yikes I need to stop thinking like that. It's just a little hard having woke up this morning with his bare naked body pressed against mine. And now I'm sitting on the bed we did it in.

He comes out wearing my clothes. I've lent girls my jackets in the past, but seeing a guy wear my entire outfit is a little... odd.

"Oh, your hairs still wet," I say, noticing the water cascading down his ringlets and getting the collar of the sweater wet. "I think my mom left her hairdryer."

I take him to my parents bathroom, sit him on a stool, and turn the hairdryer on. He's being so uncharacteristically quiet.

I dry off his hair, running my hands through it to make sure it dries all the way to the roots. Then I tie it back with one of Mom's hair ties.

"You look comfy," I say with a teasing smile.

He avoids eye contact. "Can we get Max now?"

"Oh, shit, yeah. Do you think she's okay?"

"She's not stupid. She's safe inside somewhere, I just don't know where."

"Okay, well, she's probably not at school this late. Otherwise you would have gotten a call. You think she went home with a friend?"

"Maybe."

"Let's check the phonebook for her classmate's parents."

Billy hardly remembers anyone.

"Oh, there's some kid she's always with. Sinclair."

"Great, let's try them." I flip through the phonebook. Sure enough, there it is. I dial the number.

"Hello?"

"Hi, ma'am. Does your kid have a friend named Max Hargrove?"

"Mayfield," Billy says.

I cover the mouthpiece. "What?"

"Max Mayfield."

They don't have the same last name? That's weird. I talk back into the phone. "Sorry, Max Mayfield."

"Oh, yeah, Lucas knows her!"

"Awesome! Is she with Lucas at your house by any chance?"

"No, Lucas is at Mike Wheelers house. Maybe she's over them with them?"

"Okay, thank you! Bye."

"Not there?" Billy asks.

"Nope. But she says she might be at Nancy's house with her little brother."

"Okay."

I don't need to look up the Wheeler's phone number. I know it from the thousand times I've called Nancy.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Mrs. Wheeler!"

"Nan—"

"Actually Mrs. Wheeler, I need to talk to you."

"Oh?"

"Mike has friends over, right?"

"Yes."

"Is a girl named Max Mayfield there?"

"He'd better not have a girl here." She puts down the phone. I hear a faint voice calling for Mike.

"Yeah?" someone says into the phone.

"Mike?"

"This is Max? You asked for me?"

"Oh, great! One second." I hand the phone to Billy. "It's her."

"Hey, are you sleeping over at the Wheelers? Well, where are you sleeping? Are they driving you home? Okay, then call Dad and tell him where you are and that you have a ride home and that I came by and found you." He pins the phone back on the hook without saying goodbye.

He hangs his head in his hands.

"Hey, that wasn't too bad! Just two calls," I say, trying to cheer him up.

He looks up at me with wet eyes. Holy shit, is he about to cry?