It was not a party as we were used to them. Josh and I glanced at each other dubiously as we made our way down the hall after Rachel towards the sitting room.
Parties held by Glenstal Abbey students – both in dorms during the school year and over the summer – are loud, messy, drunken gatherings not dissimilar from those of your average Hollywood-generated high-school-oriented teen movie. There are people having sex upstairs, doing oral on the couches, and making out on the porch. The music is too loud, the alcohol flows freely, and if you are lucky enough to know the host personally, you will get a large glass of Dad's eighty year old vintage brandy, previously unopened.
This was not the case in Jackson and Rachel's friend's house. We walked into the sitting room, all six of us, to see Rachel thrown down beside Jackson on a couch comfortably, Sally sitting slightly awkwardly on the edge of her seat, and everyone else sprawled lazily on various sofas and recliners. There were about four people I didn't recognise in the room, but I could hear more noise from upstairs. There was no music, though there was some alcohol on the table, and a sweet smell I recognised was filling the room. I was pretty sure all the St Vincent's kids, including Jackson who, for some reason, I had previously thought of as pretty straight edge, were high as balls.
'Sit down, friends,' one guy said lazily from a corner. He reminded me of Howard Moon, and was, indeed, sporting a rather impressive moustache. But it was hanging off in one corner. I figured this was Robbie.
Josh and I glanced at Rachel uncomfortably as we shuffled around the unusually large assortment of furniture to find seats.
'Smoke?' somebody asked me from the floor, brandishing a spliff in my direction.
'Um,' I hesitated, then not wanting to be rude, 'sure.' I took one drag and passed it to Josh quickly. I get... Well, you know, when I smoke, and I couldn't really risk that happening tonight, with both Conor and Jackson within touching distance. It wouldn't be a good idea to end up in bed with either one of them tonight.
Instead I poured myself another drink and drank it; then looked around the room, privately wondering if anybody was sober enough to notice if I just left and went home. I knew I had promised Rachel that I would make an effort but I was starting to think I had learned the lesson Jackson had wanted to teach me: what it felt like to not belong.
Robbie was regaling an enthralled looking Jackson and Rachel with some anecdote in the corner; Sally was still sitting uncomfortably on a sofa with some St Vincent's boy sitting beside her, getting a bit touchy with his hand on her knee. If he didn't cut it out he was gonna be facing the collective wrath of the Name Withheld boys. Said boys were scattered about the room as well; Conor was sitting by Philip and another St Vincent's kid, a girl, on a couch that was half in the kitchen, half out, and Daniel and Tarquin were with Loopy on the windowsill. Nobody here seemed as impressed by the band's presence as they student body had done when Sally and I had turned up yesterday but then again, I'm not sure anybody was 100% in the room at this point, or even in this world.
'Weirdest party I've ever been to,' Josh muttered to me, but he needn't have bothered keeping his voice down.
'Snap,' I replied, glancing blatantly at my phone to check the time. Only twenty minutes had passed since we'd walked inside the house. I looked up at Rachel, feeling kind of jealous of her ability to fit in in drastically different environments. I had a new appreciation for how hard it must have been for her to transfer to Glenstal Abbey from St Vincent's.
'Okay,' Robbie turned and smiled broadly at all his guests. He wore the stretched-out, lazy expression of somebody who had been smoking a lot of weed that day. 'Shall we play a game or something?'
'Like a drinking game?' Daniel asked from the windowsill.
'Oh,' Robbie said, and laughed. 'I don't think that's a good idea.' He was probably right. Most of the people in the room were way too high to consider adding alcohol to the mix. 'Let's just play a party game.'
'I feel like I'm six years old,' Josh whispered to me as we followed Robbie's lead and all moved to sit on the floor around the coffee table.
'Rachel said these parties are supposed to be crazy fun,' I reminded him. 'Maybe we're missing something.'
'Yeah, like a pound of marijuana,' Josh replied, grinning. I was starting to think maybe he was right. I like to get high as much as the next boy, but it just wasn't a good idea tonight and we both knew it.
'Let's keep drinking anyway,' Sally suggested, widening her eyes meaningfully; she was now sitting beside Josh with the handsy guy on her other side. Conor walked over, clearly sick of this maltreatment of his best friend, and kicked the guy in the base of the spine. He fell over and Conor sat himself between the two, smirking at Sally who smiled gratefully.
Robbie instructed two of his friends, who he called Peter and Damian, to remove the coffee table, so we were all just sitting in a circle around empty space on the floor. Robbie picked up a bottle of whiskey, drained whatever was left, and placed it in the middle of the floor.
'Is this a joke?' Tarquin blurted, and loathe as I am to admit it, that was the same though that had been about to fly off my tongue as well.
'No way, man,' our easy-going host drawled. 'It's time to express our love for each other as individuals through the magic of fate.'
'You mean the magic of physics,' Conor interrupted.
'Sure man, whatever.'
Conor looked annoyed; the guy hadn't gotten his slight. 'No, it's not magic, physics is a sci-' Sally elbowed him before he could finish, Robbie watching dubiously.
'Of course, man. Science and nature working together to bring peace and harmony and love. Like a drug man. Like a drug.'
'Literally like what you are smoking right now,' Conor snapped, but it was under his breath.
'Why are we playing this?' Daniel hissed, and I realised he was on my other side.
'Because it's important to Rachel and Jackson?' Loopy suggested drearily, accepting the spliff from the guy beside her and taking a deep drag. She was right. We'd agreed to play nice and it was just a dumb kissing game. How bad could it be?
Peter reached out to spin the bottle but Robbie stopped him by grabbing his wrist; 'Why don't we let one of our wealthy friends go first?'
We all seemed to feel uncomfortable at his choice of adjective even though his voice was neutral, and Rachel frowned at him, hitting him on the arm. He just smiled pleasantly in response, so we shrugged it off and each waited for somebody else to reach for the bottle, but nobody did.
'Josh!' Rachel hissed, giving him the evil eye. He made a face at her, but she persisted, and he eventually reached out to twist the bottle around. After a moment, it landed on Tarquin.
'No way, man,' they both said at the same time.
'I'm not kissing a guy,' Tarquin added uncomfortably.
'I thought you said they were cool?' Robbie asked Rachel, his voice still airy and his tone light. 'Come on,' he continued, returning his attention from Jackson and Rachel to Tarquin and Josh. 'We're all open-minded here.'
'This has nothing to do with closed-mindedness,' Josh shot back. 'It has to do with sexuality and the right to not fucking kiss someone if you don't want to.'
'Oh just kiss him so we can move on,' Sally sighed, rolling her eyes. Josh and Tarquin both blinked, wide-eyed, in her direction, but for some reason leaned across Daniel and I to touch lips, barely.
'Choose somebody to go next,' Robbie instructed Josh once the latter had finished spitting into his hand and wiping his mouth.
I saw Josh's mouth naturally curve around my name but I shot him a death glare and he quickly adjusted it, 'Rachel.'
She spun the bottle lightly, and kissed Peter as instructed. The game went on in this vain for a while, with me mercifully managing to keep under the radar and kissing nobody. The St Vincent's kids were all getting increasingly giddy and excited, while us Glenstal Abbey students were becoming more and more jaded with every spin. This was probably equal parts due to the nature of the game, and our intoxicants of choice. Robbie and Jackson were falling against each other in laughter as Sally and Loopy planted one on each other, then Loopy pointed to Conor to go next.
I froze in place, my heart thumping harder and harder with every second. I was starting to feel possessive and defensive; I didn't want to see Conor kissing somebody else. Surreptitiously and behind our backs so nobody would see, Josh grasped my hand in support.
Conor reached out slowly and spun the bottle, seeming to concentrate on the task much more than necessary. Was he trying to not look at me? Did he not want to kiss anyone else either?
Not that either of us needed to worry. The head of the bottle stopped, pointing straight at me, after two spins. And then I wasn't the only person frozen in spot. Rachel, Sally, and Josh all seemed to tense up obviously too, though nobody else seemed to notice.
'Well go on then,' Damian slurred from his place near Robbie. 'I thought we were over the hesitation thing.'
Josh and Sally glanced at each other and moved backwards out of the way; I couldn't even look at Conor. The little weed in my system was adding to what had previously been a building urgency to touch him anyway, and I wasn't sure if I started that I'd be able to stop. Swallowing, I looked up.
Conor was looking at me with an impassive expression, but his eyes were boring into mine intently. Hooked now, I leaned forward tentatively and after what seemed like an aeon, felt his breath on my face. I bit my lip, only inches from him, but scared to go any closer. All his friends were around and he'd already told me he wasn't ready to come out. What if he went back to his aggressive, exaggerated declarations of heterosexuality and like, punched me in the face as soon as I tried to kiss him?
I felt my tummy flip over when Conor pushed his lips up against mine. It was like tasting a drug, I felt the addiction well up in me again and I knew I wouldn't be able to move away. Unlike any of the other kisses so far that night, my lips started to move against his and Conor kissed me back. My hands curled into fists on the carpet with the effort to not touch him and my brain was flooded with endorphins even as a small, panicked, logical voice told me I could only get away with this for a few seconds longer.
Conor saved us. Rather than pull away, leaving me looking like an idiot, he subtly flicked his tongue against my bottom lip, turning his head slightly so nobody would notice. In reaction I opened my mouth and he took the opportunity to pull back, making it look like we'd both stopped at the same time. Resisting the urge to lunge forwards at him and pin him to the floor, I edged quickly back to my original position, putting Josh and Sally between us before I could do something stupid.
My mind racing and my heart thumping, I could look nowhere but at the floor until I had regulated my breathing. Luckily, nobody except the handful of people in the know had seemed to notice anything amiss and Robbie called impatiently for the game to continue. After a few seconds, I glanced up at Jackson, but thankfully he was still messing and joking with Robbie and Rachel, seemingly none the wiser to the fact that his boyfriend had just been itching to make out with another guy.
Had almost done so.
'You go, Jackson,' Damian hiccupped after his go, even pointing unsteadily across the circle. Jackson blinked, his eyes unfocussed, and then grinned, reaching forward to spin the bottle roughly. It twisted around several times, moving across the floor so it wasn't even in the circle anymore but practically in Loopy's lap.
'Dude, you are so lucky that's empty,' she said threateningly as a few residual splashes of whiskey landed on her knees. Jackson ignored her, watching in rapt fascination as the bottle slowed and eventually landed square in between Josh and Sally.
'Which one is it?' the St Vincent's girl asked groggily, peering from one to the other and back again curiously.
Robbie got down so he was eye level with the bottle, not that that did any good; he was red-eyed and unfocused.
'You gotta choose man,' he decided.
'Well, I'm not kissing another guy,' Josh announced, 'and definitely not my best friend's boyfriend.'
Without waiting for another word on the matter, Jackson leaned easily across the circle and laid his lips on Sally's, who's eyes went wide surprise. She clearly hadn't been expecting it. Jackson pushed forward, crawling across the circle clumsily without opening his eyes or pulling away, as Sally made vague mumbling noises of objection. This was until Jackson pushed her fully back onto the ground, firmly but gently, and obviously pushed his tongue into her mouth. At that point she shut up. This continued for a few seconds until Jackson slipped and rolled over onto his back, giggling and laughing like crazy and reaching for another drink. This time, even the stoned St Vincent's kids had noticed something amiss – a blind and deaf man would have noticed that change of atmosphere in the room – and everyone stared at Jackson as Sally struggled back up into a sitting position, her face burning red and her eyes trying to meet mine.
I didn't feel jealous, or even cheated on. How could I? I didn't feel anything for Jackson romantically anymore. But all the attention of the room was suddenly on me and I could feel myself heating up with the expectation of reaction. Every pair of eyes barring Jackson's was staring at me warily, expecting some sort of outburst.
I stood up. 'Uh. I'll be back in a minute... Gotta get some air...' I darted out of the room towards where I knew the cool night air would be waiting for me.
'I think you might have had enough, Jack,' I heard Robbie mumble as I left.
Once the door slammed shut behind me I closed my eyes, letting the coldness envelope me and soothe my burning cheeks, then walked down to the end of the garden path and climbed over the low stone wall, sitting down on the pavement and leaning against it. I felt the pressure from inside slowly dissipate as I took some deep breaths. The whole Conor situation mixed in with whatever weird shit had just happened with Jackson and Sally was too much for me, apparently.
'Oi. Queer.'
I don't normally answer to this insult, but my eyes snapped open involuntarily. Four of the boys from earlier were standing right in front of me; I'd been so lost in thought I hadn't even heard them approach.
'You gay?' the one in front demanded, his accent thick. He was wearing sweatpants and a soccer jersey, and his face was pimply.
I didn't figure answering in the affirmative was going to take me anywhere positive with these kids, but some stubborn part of me refused to disagree. So I stayed silent.
'I asked you a question, faggot,' the kid said menacingly, and I wanted to laugh. I was slightly drunk, the cold air only making that situation worse, and these kids were only in their early teens. It seemed to go right over my head that half of them had bigger muscles than I did, and that half of them was still more than one of me.
'Yeah,' I snapped, giving in. 'I am. Why? You interested?'
Not a great time to try and be a smart-ass, I figured out as soon as he kicked me in the ribs. Without even giving me a chance to gasp for breath, another foot came at my head, and soon they were coming from all directions as all four of the kids descended on me. I brought my arms up to protect my head and curled into a foetal position, squeezing my eyes tight shut and groaning in pain as I wished I'd claimed hetero and a loud rushing filled my ears, like I was holding two seashells up to them.
The attack stopped very suddenly and I wondered if they were preparing to really do some serious damage, but as the rushing in my head slowed and quietened I realised I could hear shouting and sounds of struggle. I cracked open my eyelids warily and saw a sideways group of figures I recognised fighting with and sizing up to a sideways group of figures I'd only just met. I struggled back up into a sitting position as the Name Withheld boys made short work of my new friends, who, typically, climbed right back into their boxes as soon as they were faced by somebody their own size.
Well. Bigger.
I dropped my face into my arms, which were resting on my knees now, embarrassed and in considerable pain.
Again.
I felt somebody crouch down in front of me and try to prise my hands away from my head.
'Tyler? Tyler, are you okay?' I recognised Conor's voice. Of course.
I groaned in response, still not lifting my head.
'Guys, go back inside,' Conor said softly.
'But what about-'
'It can wait,' Conor interrupted Philip with a "duh" voice, and, grumbling, their voices retreated towards the direction of the house.
'Okay, it's just me,' Conor said after the door closing sounded. He tugged again at my arms. 'Let's see the damage.'
Wishing I didn't have to, but knowing him well enough that he'd force me if I didn't, I lifted my head and faced him. The streetlights were throwing his face into high relief and his cheekbones looked really pronounced. His eyes were in shadow and he looked, as usual, perfect.
He studied me for a minute, looking worried, but then smiled. 'No uglier than you usually are,' he teased, and reached out to brush some of my hair off my face, then stood. 'Come on, I'd better take you home. You're lucky it's the weekend, that's gonna hurt in the morning.'
I love how sympathetic he can be.
Conor reached out a hand for me to grasp and pulled me to my feet, I wobbled a bit and he put one arm around my back carefully, supporting me.
'At this rate,' he said cheerfully as we stumbled along, 'we should make it to Glenstal Abbey by the morning... On Monday,' he added.
I scowled. 'Why don't you just carry me, if you're that anxious,' I muttered, knowing our retarded pace was fully my fault; I was unsteady on my feet and I could feel the kicks and punches I'd received echoing throughout my body with every step.
Conor turned and grinned at me. 'Don't tempt me,' he said. 'You want me pretty badly right now, huh?'
I choked on my own breath. 'What?'
'No, really, admit it. You couldn't even pull away from me back there in the house, and as if that wasn't enough, I just saved your life. You must be aching for me.' I opened my mouth to spit out some scathing reply, but he continued, 'I know I'm aching for you.'
He said it so casually, like he were commenting on the weather. He sounded cheerful, amiable. I practically did a double take.
Conor turned to look at me sceptically, even as he was more or less dragging me along; on top of my injuries I was now also in shock. 'You already knew that,' he said dubiously. Then, without waiting for a response, 'But I'm not gonna do anything about it until you break up with Jackson. I have it on good third-account authority that that won't be happening for another week.' He glanced at my questioning face. 'Sally and Rachel tell each other everything now, apparently. And she won't stop wittering on about you whenever we hang out.'
We were at the back gate of Glenstal Abbey now, and Conor pushed it open with his back so he could manoeuvre me through.
'Is it true you have a "coming out" clause?' he asked lightly once we were inside the grounds.
'What?' I stared at him.
'Like, I have to come out before you, you know...' he trailed off. I guess neither of us were sure where this thing was going.
'No. I mean, I never said that.'
'But you do want me out.'
'Well, yeah. I want you to feel free to be yourself. That's not a bad thing, right?'
'Well you know, Tyler, I'm willing to bet those kids didn't beat you up because of your good looks.'
'You haven't even told your friends.'
'I have,' he countered.
'Yeah, one person.'
'No, I told Daniel and Philip and Tarquin too. That's why we were outside.'
'You brought them all outside to tell them while I was being beaten up?'
'No, I told them inside. They wanted to continue the conversation outside.'
I gaped at him. 'You told them in front of everybody?'
'Um. Well, no. I texted them.'
I stared at him for a minute, then started to laugh weakly. 'You texted them in the sitting room of a stranger's house during the most awkward game of Spin the Bottle ever that you're gay?'
'Here,' he said, 'I'll just show you.' He reached into his pocket to get his phone, and handed it to me after unlocking it. I took it and scrolled through the group message on the screen.
Conor A: Um. Did you guys see that?
Tarquin F: Jackson full-on cheating on Tyler with Sally? Uh, yeah dude. We saw that.
Conor A: No, that's not what I mean. I mean, me and Tyler.
Daniel F: Oh my god, dude.
Philip V: Seriously Conor, it's just a game, get over it.
Tarquin F: You're the one that made us apologise to him, what is your deal exactly?
Conor A: Just shut up for a second, okay? I'm trying to tell you guys something.
Conor A: What just happened, just now, with me and Tyler.
Conor A: That's not exactly the first time it's happened.
Conor A: By a lot.
Tarquin F: What.
Philip V: Dude are you saying you and Tyler have played Spin the Bottle before or like
Philip V: Something else
Conor A: Something else.
Daniel F: You and Tyler Lincoln...
Conor A: Constantly.
Conor A: Well. Until Jackson. Then less often.
Philip V: You and Tyler
Philip V: Sitting in a tree?
Conor A: I guess.
Tarquin: I fucking knew it. I knew it. Nobody is as much of an asshole as you are without something to hide.
Daniel F: We need to take this shit outside. I need to hear him say it.
Philip V: Conor.
Conor A: Yeah?
Philip V: We fucking love you.
Daniel F: We do.
Tarquin F: I love you the most.
Conor A: Oh my god.
'This is awesome,' I said happily, handing him his phone back. 'Look how good they were about it. People dream of having friends like this.'
'Does it fit the clause?'
'I'd like you to be yourself Conor,' I said softly. 'But...' I was nervous. 'It's not a "clause" or whatever. I'll still be...' I hesitated. He hadn't named what I was going to be. 'Into you.'
I could make out his faint smile as we rounded the corner and suddenly were in front of the dorm buildings. Without hesitation, Conor made straight for mine, pushing open the door like it wasn't weird that he was apparently coming to my room.
'Well it's not like you can manage stairs on your own,' he explained. I'd thought I was hiding my surprise pretty well, but I guess he can read me more easily now, like I can read him.
'We have an elevator,' I mumbled sheepishly. There was no way I was taking the stairs, not even with Conor supporting me.
'You guys have an elevator? That's so unfair, we don't have an elevator!' he walked over and started pushing all the buttons like a little kid.
'Probably because you're not mature enough to use one,' I teased, as the elevator doors opened and I prepared for one long-ass ride to the fifth floor. Sure enough, the doors opened on every floor, but I didn't mind or even notice very much – a few seconds after the doors had closed the first time, Conor had reached out and slipped his hand into mine. I was finding it really hard to keep the big goofy grin off my face.
When we got to my floor, Conor supported my weight through the hallway until we got to my and Josh's room, then waited while I unlocked it and turned on the lights. I stumbled over to my bed and collapsed on it with a groan of half pain, half relief, then kicked off my shoes.
Conor came over and sat on the edge of the bed by my chest, and brushed the hair out of my eyes again. 'You do have a couple cuts on your face,' he informed me. 'Where do you keep your First Aid kit?'
His hand was cool on my face and I could feel the burning pain of the punches subsiding a little under his touch.
'Top drawer,' I mumbled, motioning vaguely towards my desk. Without getting up or removing his hand, Conor leaned forwards and slid open my desk drawer. I let my eyes close as tiredness washed over me; I just wanted to relax into the coolness of his skin and sleep away the injuries.
'First Aid kit's not the only thing you're keeping in here,' he muttered, and my eyes opened as he took his hand away. I glanced over to see him holding his green notebook up, an accusatory look on his face. He raised one eyebrow.
'I found it?' I attempted, propping myself up on my elbows and sounding like a liar even to myself.
'I asked you like a thousand times if you'd seen this,' he said quietly, hugging it to himself protectively.
I felt like an even bigger asshole than I'd been feeling for the last week. And I hadn't thought that was possible.
'I'm sorry,' I said helplessly, then started babbling. 'Josh took it, and then we all forgot about it, and when I remembered I made him give it to me so he couldn't read it, I was going to give it back to you tomorrow...'
'Did you read it?' he asked. His voice was really quiet.
'Um.' I couldn't lie. 'I tried.'
I couldn't be sure, but I thought I saw the faint tug of a smile at the corners of his mouth. He opened the notebook to the last used page and tore it out, handing it to me. I took it hesitantly.
'See if you can figure that one out,' he challenged me, and I looked down at it. It was even messier than the other ones, but immediately I recognised a few words. Nothing substantial though.
'What's it about?' I asked stupidly.
'I'm not telling you,' he announced, putting the notebook down again and pulling the First Aid kit out of my desk. 'Lay back.'
I did as I was told, the page still in my hand, while he cleaned and stung and bandaged and cooled.
'Where else did they get you?' he asked softly, his hand still lingering on my cheek once he finished up.
'Everywhere,' I sighed, motioning vaguely towards my body. 'But none of it's cut, just bruising.'
'You should probably go to the nurse in the morning, in case you have anything internal,' Conor said, frowning worriedly down at me.
'Can you turn off the light?' I asked. All his work at soothing me had done exactly that, and now I was ready for sleep.
He looked surprised. 'Um, sure. I'll check on you in the morning, okay?'
I nodded sleepily. He turned off the light and opened the door, and I called, 'Conor.'
'Huh?'
'Notebook.'
'Oh!' He let the door swing closed as he came back into the room, feeling the edge of the bed in the darkness to find his notebook. When his hand got close enough, I caught him by the wrist and tugged him towards me; he landed a little on top of me, which hurt, but had the desired effect nonetheless. Wordlessly, he climbed under the covers and wrapped his arms loosely around me so as not to aggravate my bruises, nuzzling my neck as he rested his chin on my shoulder. 'Better?' he asked softly.
I nodded sleepily, snuggling into him and twining the fingers of one hand through his. I was physically bruised and battered; mentally distressed; and emotionally more confused than I have ever been.
It was the best night's sleep of my life.