The Vacation

Chapter Ten

I spit out the water I had just drank. “What the actual fuck?! How?! You're like the most gorgeous guy on the planet like even Tom Holland or Ryan Gosling can't compare to your looks! You're a whole lot fucking nicer than everyone in America is, and you cook! How have you not taken a girl to bed?!”

Wow, okay, Jessie. Nice going. Very subtle. And completely the wrong message. “You're the handsomest guy to ever walk the Earth, Alessio. Fuck me.” No. You don't want that from him. He wouldn't be any good. Virgins never are.

Apparently Alessio thought that outburst was the funniest damned thing ever, because he started laughing. Literally, a chest-shaking, I-cannot-breathe, pull-the-car-over type of laugh. After he caught his breath, he looked over at me. “Oh my - gasp - goodness, honey. That's - gasp - so funny. You're comparing me to - gasp - those two yummy - gasp - little snacks? I wish I was anywhere near their league! Oh the things I could do! Thanks for the compliments, though, Jess. I appreciate the boost of self confidence.” We pulled into a parking spot. “Okay I'll continue this on our bike tour. We're here. And this is a good story. Really.”

“Bike tour? Around London? In November?! Ali, I'm wearing a dress! And sandals!” How had I gotten myself into this?

“Don't worry hun. You have no idea what you're in for. But you'll be glad we did this. I know you will. Now, let me get your door for ya.” He had the nerve to singsong. Like he just knew I was going to have a blast. I, on the other hand, was quite confident I would not.

***

Well, it turned out that Ali's “bike tour” was literally a heated bus named “London Bike Tours”. Just shoot me now. When we got on, it turned out that there was a tour guide named Dean and only two empty seats right in the front. So we sat down.

“Welcome, everybody. I'm Dean. I'll be your guide today, meaning I'll talk about the historic sites as we pass them, but I won't talk all the time. So feel free to take in the scenes around the city, talk, or play cards while I'm not talking. Just as long as you don't disturb anyone else, thanks!

“If everyone would look out to their left side, you can see our first look at the River Thames. We will be seeing this a couple more times throughout the tour, since it snakes through all of London. The Thames starts in Gloucestershire and it flows for 215 miles until it reaches the North Sea. The river mostly flows through the countryside, but it also reaches a few cities, London included, obviously. The London Bridge was built by King….” Bo-ring. I started tuning out Dean after about the third sentence, but Alessio seemed interested. Or at least good at pretending to be interested. So I looked out of the window for a while.

I must have been in my own world or something because Alessio nudged me after a while and I jumped in my seat a little. “Ali, you scared me!” I whispered to him, but then chuckled softly.

“Sorry, hun. But did you want to hear the rest of the story I was going to tell you on the way here?”

“Yes, please. Story time!” I got a little loud at whispering because Dean shot me a look and cleared his throat, but seemed to be okay with us talking still.

“Okay,” Alessio laughed quietly at my enthusiasm. “So like I said before, this story begins with the school dance I already told you about. The one where I sat in my bathtub and read. Anyways, the reason I did that was because we were to ask a girl if she would go to the dance with us, and for reasons I couldn't identify at the time, I couldn't bring myself to ask a girl to the dance. I chalked it up to my being shy originally. And then that I didn't want to dance at all because I was a guy and guys don't do dancing. And then I told myself I just wanted to finish that book. But some other things throughout the years happened and I realized it was none of those reasons that I told myself.

“When I was sixteen, and graduating from the gentlemen school, I was standing next to one of my classmates, Pierre LaGrenouille, who was from France, and I just had this strong urge to hold his hand. I didn't though. I have self restraint.

“A couple years ago, I got started on American films. Well when I saw that there had been a movie made on the novel Les Miserables by Victor Hugo, a book which I had read in school, I just had to see it. And when I saw it, every time Aaron Tveit’s character came on screen, I got all tingly and I had butterflies in my stomach.

“So yeah, what I guess I'm saying is that I'm gay. My parents weren't really approving of the fact, but my uncle has done a lot to help me accept who I am and I am forever grateful for that.” Alessio finished.

What? He was gay? I never would have guessed that. He certainly wasn't the stereotypical American kind of gay, like James Charles or Johnny Weir. But then again, I didn't have any other homosexual friends, so those were the only two openly gay people I knew. And they flaunted their sexuality a lot. Maybe they were on the far end of the scales?

“What? You're gay? You don't strike me as gay,” I said, voicing my thoughts.

Ali laughed. “Yes. I know what you're thinking. I don't have earrings or wear makeup or have a collection of fancy hats anything. But not every person fits the mold perfectly. Take you for example. What I've gathered from you is that you're popular, but you don't do stereotypical “popular” things like cheerleading or dating the head quarterback of your American Football team. We're all different, Jess. And yeah, I do some not typically “masculine” things as well, for instance look at your outfit. I picked that out, if you remember. And your dad's work clothes from last night. I don't play sports.”

That makes sense, I suppose. Everything he said about me was correct, too. “Yeah, you're right I guess. This outfit is pretty good. But I only have one question. I just met you like three days ago, why did you just come out to me?”

“Well, I guess it's because we've really connected and I feel like we've known each other for a long time, not just three days. Also, you asked how it was possible I haven't “taken any girls to bed yet” in your words, so I figured I would answer. Third, I really don't care about what other people think about me or my sexuality, so I figure if they know, they know.” Then he did something I never expected in a million years. He stood up and faced the entire bus, saying, “Hey, everybody. Sorry to interrupt your personal conversations, but my friend Jess here and I were just talking and she asked why I came out to her, whom I barely know. Well I told her that I don't really care what people think of my sexuality, and also I like to make friends. And all my friends know my sexuality. So I figured “hey, a big bus full of people I would love to be friends with!” so, guys, would you like to be my friend? It's okay if you don't, because I'm gay. I don't judge you for not liking me because I'm gay, but if you want to be my friend that would be so cool!” And then sat back down in the seat, flashing me a grin.

I whispered to him, “What was that? I totally wasn't expecting that!” Really, there were no words to describe how surprised I was that he just came out to a bus full of strangers. But what was even more surprising was that someone in the back of the bus started clapping and then the rest of the bus joined in. When the clapping slowed, someone else - by the looks of the dark circles under her eyes and messy bun, a young mom - stood up and said, “I'll be your friend, Alessio! I admire your courage and I've heard about you from friends of friends. They say you're a really great influence!” Which started a chain reaction of everyone standing and joining into the chorus of “I'll be your friend, Alessio!” that rang throughout the bus. Wow. That definitely was not the reaction I was expecting. I had a feeling that would not have happened in Vermont.

-----

Hey guys! Sorry again for the late update! I've had stuff going on. Annnnyyyyywayyyyy, love you all for reading my story!

This was a really long chapter and yeah! it felt good to write. Hope you liked it!

Don't forget to vote/comment/share!

Toodles,
Hannah