Buddy Holly (boyxboy)✅

Oo-ee-oo

Simon Duffner

"Oo-ee-oo I look just like Buddy Holly..." D.J. Doyle sang, taunting me as I passed him in the school hallway. As usual, I kept my head down, hoping he wouldn't notice me, but no such luck. To make sure everyone knew the song was meant just for me, D.J. shouted "you, Simon Duffner," down the hall.

My mouth could be just as big as D.J.'s, so I sang back to him, on the top of my lungs, "Oh-oh, and you're Mary Tyler Moore," not like I expected D.J. or his cronies to know who Mary Tyler Moore was, but it was the next line in the song to Weezer's Buddy Holly. Before he could come after me, I sprinted through the hallway, disappearing around the corner.

Back in 1994 when I was sixteen years old, the band Weezer debuted with their song Buddy Holly. My dad was one of the high school's math teachers and somehow I got stuck with him for geometry. Being a dork and old school rock 'n' roll fan, he announced to the whole class that me, his first born son, looked just like the deceased singer, who perished in a helicopter crash in 1959, the day the music died...according to my dad.

Attempting to be cool, my dad sang the first couple of lines of that new Weezer song, mortifying me in front of everyone. All eyes were on me as I stared down at my geometry textbook, wishing I could just disappear. I didn't speak to my dad for a week.

Once I saw a picture of Buddy Holly, I could see the resemblance: tall and lanky, a little goofy-looking with dark-rimmed glasses and thick, messy dark curly hair. At least my teeth were straight, unlike Buddy Holly's. Two years of braces were worth it.

Maybe at six years old I was considered cute in glasses, but not at sixteen; at least not in my opinion; my parents' opinion didn't count. Because I was forever breaking my frames, my parents made me get these unbreakable, thick frames.

I'd get rid of the glasses if I could, but I could barely see a thing without them. I was doomed to look like Buddy Holly forever.

I briefly considered wearing contact lenses, but the idea of touching my eyeballs totally freaked me out. Once I saw my older sister, Elizabeth, a sophomore in college, put them in and take them out, I knew I'd never be able to do it.

Four Eyes, Simple Simon, and Simon Says were my most common nicknames. When I was younger, kids, particularly D.J. would say "Simon Says, give me your lunch money." My mother was too busy to make my lunch, so I'd often go without eating until I was old enough to make my own lunch.

Now I could add Buddy Holly to the list of insults.

I was afraid to find out what people, especially D.J., would call me if they knew I was gay. I had a feeling which word they'd use. Only my best friends, Colleen and Claudia, knew the truth. I'd tell my parents, but I feared my dad would blab it to the school, unintentionally or not. Word traveled fast in this tiny town.

Because my last name began with D, D.J. Doyle and I shared the same homeroom. He'd been harassing me since I was five when we played soccer together. I was the most uncoordinated boy on the team, but my parents insisted I had to give it a try. I played for two years until a boy accidentally kicked the ball in my groin. Even at six years old it was the type of pain I'd never forget.

Adam Durgin was also in my homeroom and had been for the past two years. His surfer blond hair fell perfectly on his head. He was the type who made girls blush whenever he walked by or smiled. His dimples did something to me, too, something weird and not too familiar. He was Mr. Athlete, the soccer star since he was five, the pride and joy of the town. Growing up, he was the one everyone picked for their team; he was the one everyone wanted to play with at recess while I was the one who sat alone on the swings.

Everyone liked Adam Durgin.

Despite his dimples and blond hair, I couldn't stand him, mostly because he was just so perfect. He had this weird habit of sitting next to me. I typically changed seats whenever he did that.

He was so annoying, making me blush whenever he smiled or sat next to me. Heat soared through my veins whenever he was near me. I didn't want anyone to notice because then they'd know.

Some days I didn't have a choice, though. Since Adam was perpetually late for everything, sometimes the only vacant seat was the seat beside mine. His blue eyes often darted in my direction and I'd expect an insult like Simple Simon, Four Eyes, or the newest one, Buddy Holly, but the insults never came. He was different than the others.

"Do you like Weezer?" he asked me in a whisper.

Uh-oh, here it comes, I thought to myself. Maybe he is like them. I expected him to sing the first opening lines of the song. Holding my breath, I waited and waited.

But the opening line never came. He paused, our eyes meeting for a second as he waited for an answer from me.

Yes, I happened to like the band, but I didn't want to admit it, so I merely shrugged my shoulders.

"I like them, too," he said, interpreting my shrug as a yes. "You kinda look like the lead singer."

My cheeks burned as Adam spoke to me. The lead singer of Weezer was kind of cute and I wondered if maybe Adam thought the same thing about me.

Could it be?

That would be the shock of the century...Adam Durgin, gay with a crush on the Buddy Holly lookalike... or maybe the Rivers Cuomo lookalike. What a story that would be...

Adam spoke barely audibly, maybe hoping no one would hear him as if he were telling me some dark secret, or maybe he didn't want anyone to notice him speaking to Simon Duffner.

I thought the latter was probably the case.

Word count: 1068