the beach

sugar still on his lips

They knew the truth. They had known for his entire life but he guessed they tried to wish it away. And maybe he did too. What, or more like who he wanted. Actually wanted. Somehow, he folded it up, and buried it deep down within himself. But there was always an incessant nagging in the back of his mind that told him he was wrong. 

He knew. 

Of course he knew.

Deep down, he knew. 

He skipped through his childhood hiding behind two older brothers. They played basketball, so he played basketball. They took the cheerleaders to dances, so that's exactly what he did. Half-heartedly, of course. Alec, Alex, and Alan: the three Baxter Boys who always had a crowd of fans behind them. 

But then his father made him take an extra class. He chose drama because his older brother, Alex, told him that the drama girls were the hottest.

But on the first day, Alan didn't see Lauren, Taylor, Brittaney, Vikki, or Amy. There was a boy who wore his unruly blonde hair in a short ponytail that sang like an angel. His name was Kyle. He spoke with such conviction, he could probably convince someone to kill for him. He had the kind of presence that made you want to stay. Like he was this beacon of warmth that begged you to linger just a little bit longer, to rest for a while. He had these deep blue eyes that captivated everyone he turned them on. 

Alan was no excuse. 

It was when they randomly selected parts for Romeo and Juliet  that sparks flew and caught fire within Alan. Kyle had selected Juliet, and Alan Romeo. Initially, Alan refused but his teacher reminded him that half his grade rested upon this performance. "Fine," Alan had huffed as he pouted in his seat. 

Kyle looked over, his blue eyes glazing over Alan. Alan froze up. Kyle's lips slackened and his eye jutted up, a sudden wink. Alan's stomach clenched and he turned away. He knew that it was different when Kyle looked at him like that. He knew that he wasn't a friend. 

Curiosity danced an evil jig over his shoulders as they two went out in the hall to rehearse. Alan kept his distance, reading his romantic lines in a mundane voice. Kyle watched him over his script, his lips tight. 

"Do you think we're going to get a grade with you reading like that?" Kyle cut Alan off in the middle of a sentence. 

Alan's face reddened and he peeled his eyes off the paper and stuck them to Kyle. "It's a fucking skit man," Alan tried to say. 

Kyle crossed his arms over his chest. "Is that what you're telling yourself?"

Alan's cheeks rushed with warmth. "What are you talking about?"

"Let me ask you something. How long have you known you were gay?"

Alan drew a blank. Him? Gay? Of course he had known. He chose not to respond. 

"Oh so you're one of those guys who lie to themselves?" Kyle scoffed and set his papers down at his side. 

"Shut up," Alan said, his fists clenching.

Kyle smiled a wicked smile, his head turned to the side. "Alright. But we both know I'm right," he tested. 

Alan lurched towards him, grabbing him up by the collar on the teal shirt he wore. He slammed Kyle into the wall. "Don't fucking call me a fag," Alan spat into his face. 

Kyle was not phased. "I'm not calling you that. I'm just saying you're gay."

Alan jerked Kyle back against the wall, his head slamming into to brick. It split open, and blood trickled through Kyle's sandy hair, and down onto the back of his neck. "I swear to God..."

"What?" Kyle leaned his face close to Alan, his blue eyes hardening. "What are you going to do to me? Hire your brothers to beat me up? Hit me? What?"

Alan shook his head, unable to explain why he watched Kyle's lips. In a split second, everything changed. Alan flinched towards Kyle's lips. He hesitated for a fraction of a second, but Kyle didn't. He leaned in, pressing his lips against Alan's. Kyle's arms reached up and pulled Alan in closer,  their bodies clumsily knocking into each other. 

Everything fell away from Alan in that moment. He felt like was running through an open field, the fresh air warming his lungs. His entire body was running with electricity, sugar dripping from his lips. 

"Alan?" a confused split them apart, Kyle clutching his lips as if trying to hide his guilt. 

Alan's muscles tightened, and he shook his head. He was trapped again. His clothes felt heavy and his skin was tight. "Alex..."

It was too late. Alex turned around, and walked the other way. 

"Alan?" Kyle asked limply. 

Alan turned and walked opposite of his brother, moving towards the parking lot. He started his car, and drove absently. He waded out into the sand, plopping down about half way to the water, his legs unable to carry him. There was a girl with purple hair smoking a cigarette near the water. He let himself flop backwards onto the sand, still feeling sugar on his lips.