Than to Have Never Loved at All

A Special Kind of Hilarity

There is a special kind of hilarity about seeing the faces of the theater department, and a the few board members in attendance when 55 queers in party clothes walked into the old auditorium.

I watched as Hope's dad's eyes grow to the size of dinner plates and the woman next to him glare through her square-rimmed glasses. She was clearly calculating how to make this stop. Unfortunately for her the voting was open to any student from Allen Hills and Carsey had filled cars with Allen Hills students. They were an organizer, and they organized.

Finn stepped up next to me and squeezed my hand.

"We would like voting stickers." Carsey told the girl at the sign-in desk.

There was some confusion, shuffling and arguing as the woman next to Hope's dad tried to swipe the little circle voting stickers, and the girl at the desk tried to take them back.

It lasted ten seconds before Hope stepped up onto the voting table at the far side of the room and cheered. The man next to the table her tugged her down. She stumbled back to the floor glowering. Her outburst gave the girl behind the desk the second she needed to hand Carsey a wad of voting stickers with a flicker of a thankful smile.

"Welcome to the party." They said. "We have snacks by the voting table, and Zain and Catch are showing One-Act highlight reels on the stage. Macie is running an improv class backstage if you want to have some fun while you're here."

The voting party was much more subdued than it had been in the past-- oversaw as it was by a handful of staunch board members--but I had a feeling that was about to change. A kid next to me perked up at the mention of an improv class. Finn was making a beeline for the snacks.

We lined up and each took a sticker from Carsey as we walked through the door. The two board members in attendance crossed their arms. I saw Hope surreptitiously taking photos of the current voting numbers. Maybe for proof or maybe to keep a record on social media in case someone tried to make a case later about what show was actually voted for.

I bypassed Carsey in order to talk to Regan behind the entry table.

"One vote per attendee right?" I asked. She nodded and handed me a little yellow sticker with its back still attached. I didn't have time during the day to get online and actually read any of the other entries so I had a lot of reading ahead of me, but I was excited to get to vote.

"How many queer entries do we have?" I asked.

"Two." Regan's smile was 1000 watt. She winked when the woman watching her table glared at us.

"Point 'em out." I said. Regan motioned to two different tables and I checked behind me that the others in line got the info. There were nods and thumbs up and bisexual fingerguns down the line. I figured the information would be passed along.

"You really want to start this?" Regan asked.

"Bring it on.

"We're aiming for a clean and community friendly event this year." The board member pushed forward, elbowing Regan out of the way to talk to me. "Please vote for the scripts you think will be best for young people to perform for their peers."

"my peers are queers." I said. I gave her two sarcastic thumbs up and walk away from the table. I heard Regan laughing.

There were a lot of love stories in the room. I even skimmed a few of the others, just to make sure there wasn't something I thought was legitimately better than mine. There were some good ones, but not ones with a plot I cared much about, or a story that spoke to me. I wanted something that spoke to me. I voted for the other queer entry out of good sportsmanship. Two boys in love seemed like a good thing.

It was at least something that would speak to the other people around me. I caught Finn's eye as he picked his voting sticker of Keegan's nose and stuck it on the pile of stickers under my scripts name. His smile was wide. I could live forever in his happy gaze. but I was happy to share that gaze with Keegan. Nat was gone but Finn was still there. He walked away from Keegan and nuzzled into my side in a rare show of public affection. I leaned into him. He smelled like dirty peacoat and finally, after weeks, some good boy shampoo.

Finn was there. Solid and certain. I reminded myself quietly that I would be there for him too.

Finn was my love story. My, I love you story.

Always had been.