Harmonious Hearts 2017 Read online

  The pulse of the lunchroom swept over them, a medley of laughter and chatter, the clatter of books and pencil scratches blending with the clinking of silverware and plastic containers. Allie laughed. John and Cynthia were either in a club meeting or making out behind the school. Thomas opened a bag of chips and ate them one at a time, swaying back and forth. His humming continued. Derek didn’t recognize the song.

  “I’m.” Thomas stopped, setting the bag down and staring at the table. “I’m. Me too.” Derek waited. His heart thumped just like it had when Alexa had come out. Allie followed suit not one month later. Cynthia told everyone she was bisexual over Facebook. John never really came out, but he made it clear over the years that he’d hit on anything with legs. Of course, once he had started dating Cynthia, he emphasized he had eyes only for her. Mostly.

  “Are you going to say anything?” Derek realized Thomas was waiting for him to reply. The ever-present tension coiled in Thomas’s shoulders was ready to snap, a snake waiting to strike. Derek wondered if Thomas had left his old school because things had gotten too bad, but it wasn’t his place to ask.

  Derek shrugged. “Like I said, it’s cool with me. We’re all pretty gay here anyway.” Thomas nodded once and went back to eating his chips. Derek went back to slogging through his textbook, the names and dates swirling together in his head because dyslexia was a bitch.

  “King George the Third,” Thomas said. Derek blinked in confusion. “He’s the one you’re looking for.”

  “Oh. Thanks.” Derek wrote it down and moved on. Thomas didn’t say anything else for the rest of lunch.

  It was the first time Thomas had spoken without prompting. Derek didn’t want to call it a success, but it was definitely progress. He didn’t tell anyone else, though. There was no point. It wasn’t like Derek was keeping track. He just had a good memory for firsts.

  The first boy Derek ever kissed was John. They were at Derek’s house, two fifteen-year-old boys playing video games in the living room. John was pressed up against Derek, distracting him from the game by throwing elbows and snark.

  It had been sudden. One moment they were laughing, Derek thinking about how warm John was next to him, and the next there was a hand wrapped around his head and a pair of chapped lips up against his. Everything froze, but all Derek had to do was blink and it was over. They had stared at each other before laughing and agreeing never to try that again.

  “We’re better off as friends,” John had said. Derek agreed.

  “HE SAID we’re better off as friends,” Cynthia sobbed to them, green eyes rimmed red from tears. Derek agreed, but he was smart enough not to say. Allie glared daggers into the back of John’s head, but he had already done this three other times, and Derek was pretty sure John was immune to whatever ill will Allie was trying to inflict.

  “John’s an idiot. He’ll realize he screwed up and ask for your forgiveness in a week,” Alexa reassured Cynthia, which she had said the last few times. Derek wondered if some people were just doomed to live in perpetual déjà vu, never breaking out of patterns because they were too scared of what the unknown held.

  He knew that half his hesitation to ask anyone out came from what had happened last time. The other half was that no one else was available.

  “Does this happen a lot?” Thomas whispered, lingering a few feet away from the girls. Derek nodded, too busy pacing back and forth on the cheap lunchroom tile to explain the full history behind how JohnandCynthia often became John and Cynthia.

  Derek thought it would save everyone a whole lot of tears, heartache, and headaches if John and Cynthia remained separate. Not everyone could have the whirlwind, forever-in-love romance Alexa and Allie had stumbled upon. And that was fine. Derek knew most high school couples didn’t marry. John and Cynthia, however, seemed to be determined to get a happy ending, no matter how many redos it took.

  Derek was a realist, thank you very much, and he had three very real goals that he held onto.

  First, he had to graduate high school with everyone else. It meant he had to not succumb to the temptation to throw Pride and Prejudice across the room whenever he opened it, and he wasn’t allowed to stay up all night playing Overwatch. But it would be worth it.

  He had to walk across the stage with the others, had to be in all those cheesy grad photos, had to be able to complain about how his cap didn’t fit and how he kept tripping over his robe. Not only would his parents kill him if he got held back, he wouldn’t be happy if that happened. I’ve gotten this far, dammit. I just have a little more to go, Derek told himself whenever he wanted to quit.

  Which, junior year, had been often.

  Second, he was going to marry a tall, roguishly handsome man who was a lawyer or an author or something cool. They’d meet in college, and Derek would make a total fool of himself at first, but he’d impress his future husband with his excessive knowledge of Netflix TV shows and sci-fi lore. Derek was hedging his bets by learning about criminal law, hoping it would surprise his future husband enough to get him an invitation to talk about their mutual love of Sense8, Star Wars, and Young Avengers over a cup of coffee.

  Third, Derek would not be jealous of Allie and Alexa, and he would definitely not be jealous of John and Cynthia. Derek was going to graduate high school single. He had no interest in anyone, so unless a new student showed up a quarter of the way through senior year, that wouldn’t change. And that, he told himself, was fine.

  Sure, sometimes he wanted to smash his head against the nearest hard surface because Alexa and Allie were always in their own little bubble and when John and Cynthia were together they were together, but he was fine.

  Totally, undeniably, fine.

  “FMK—Chris Pratt, Tom Hiddleston, and young Harrison Ford,” Alexa said one day at lunch, counting off on her fingers.

  John rolled his eyes. “Fuck Ford, kiss Pratt, marry Hiddleston,” he replied without hesitation. Derek snorted. “What?”

  “Pratt is more husband material,” he argued. “But I definitely would screw Ford.” John seemed to accept that and, for once, didn’t seek an argument. Instead he turned to Thomas, who was crunching on a familiar bag of chips.

  “Oi, Fall Out Boy, your turn. FMK—”

  “What did you call me?” Thomas asked, a look of amused confusion present. He had been opening up more, and his involvement with the group had solidified him as part of the gang, as Derek had dubbed them. Now that Thomas was one of them, John had given him a nickname.

  Derek’s was Solo, not only because of his lackluster romantic ventures but also because of his refusal to change his Halloween costume from Han Solo. It was a better nickname than Allie’s, which was Ice Queen when John was feeling generous.

  “Fall Out Boy,” John explained, “because you like the band and it’s clever.” Thomas frowned, and Derek saw him flip through a gambit of emotions.

  “Can you call me something else?” he asked. John shrugged, which was his nod. “You should. Uh. Call me ‘Teenage Anarchist’.” Derek wracked his brain for the reference, and he could sense the others doing the same. “It’s by a good band, Against Me! I’ll send you some of their stuff.” None of the others really liked Thomas’s music, but he would send links in the group chat and they’d listen anyway. Friends suffered for one another, after all.

  John raised three fingers. “Okay, Teenage Anarchist. FMK—Scarlett Johansson, Jennifer Lawrence—”

  “I don’t like girls.” It came out with no preamble and no hesitation. John’s mouth hung open while Alexa and Allie exchanged a look. Cynthia had an innocent expression on her face, even as she nudged John until he handed her a ten-dollar bill.

  Thomas shifted, not meeting anyone’s gaze. “If that’s okay,” he mumbled in his secret-sharing voice. Derek, who had gotten into the habit of sitting next to Thomas, squeezed his shoulder. Before Derek could reassure Thomas, John nodded.

  “So, FMK….”

  When lunch was over, Thomas lingered behind. Derek had been v
olunteered to clean the table, so he got to reach into a dirty red bucket with dirty water to touch a dirty wet rag and attempt to sanitize a dirty table.

  He hated it.

  “Thanks,” Thomas said as Derek mentally cursed whoever invented nose goes. “You’re a good friend.” He walked away, unaware of the realization that hit Derek in that moment.

  Because he hadn’t thought of them like that, as friends. They didn’t have deep emotional conversations, and they had barely known each other for two months.

  But what other word could be used? They sat together at lunch and talked about their love of sci-fi, even if Thomas was a Trekkie and Derek was a die-hard Star Wars fan. Thomas’s snarky comments kept Derek alive in English and proved, more often than not, that he was better prepared for the work than Derek. They helped each other with homework, which really was just Thomas letting Derek look at his answers, and they would both glance at each other whenever their history teacher said something racist.

  And Derek couldn’t help but find a kindred spirit in Thomas. After all, they were the only two out gay guys in the whole school, something Alexa didn’t seem to understand.

  “How do you not like boobs? They’re the best,” she said one sunny fall afternoon.

  Thomas made a face. “I don’t even like touching them,” he admitted.

  Derek understood. “Same. I’m gay for a reason.” He shot Thomas a smile and was surprised to see the blank look on Thomas’s face. “Y’know. You’d only date someone with a dick. Real men.” Thomas gave him a jerky nod, but Alexa kept rambling before Derek could ask if Thomas was okay. Sometimes Thomas would do something Derek didn’t understand, would freak out at the slightest noise or flinch when touched.

  Now that Thomas was part of the gang, he was part of their family, and that meant Derek wouldn’t ask any questions he didn’t think Thomas would answer. And there was no animosity from Derek toward Thomas anymore. They had moved past that.

  DEREK MET Thomas’s family when they dropped Thomas off at Alexa’s house. They rolled up right as Derek was about to knock, his head turning as the sound of the engine coughed and stuttered down the cul-de-sac. The once green, now rust red, truck stopped and the side door opened. Thomas, wearing his leather jacket, huge headphones, and a scowl, clambered out. In the back seat, two little girls argued, their hair longer but still the same unruly mess as Thomas’s own. Thomas’s parents, who for some reason surprised Derek because they were wearing flannel and jeans, occupied the front two seats.

  Thomas walked up the driveway, taking the headphones off and acknowledging Derek with a glance as the truck window rolled down. “Que te diviertas, hijo,” his mother shouted over the din of the engine. Thomas yelled something back that Derek didn’t catch, though it wouldn’t have mattered. The only language he spoke was English, much to the chagrin of his Chinese grandparents.

  One of the girls stuck her head out the window and made a face at her brother. “Bye-bye, Tammy! You better come back!” Derek expected Thomas to roll his eyes and ignore her, but he adopted a serious look as he focused on her.

  “Yo te prometo,” he said, loud enough that his words weren’t trampled by the truck. There was softness in his eyes, eyelids drooping and mouth curving down in a small frown. There wasn’t anger or sorrow, but there was disappointment. Derek didn’t consider himself more emotional than the next guy, but he felt a rush of sympathy and wanted nothing more than to chase away whatever was making Thomas feel that way.

  Then it was gone along with the truck, leaving Thomas to march past Derek and knock on Alexa’s door. She flung it open, no doubt waiting for them, and welcomed them inside.

  It was a small house, and the group was just able to fit on the couch, though Alexa and Allie had to curl together on the armchair. Derek’s mother liked to say the place was eccentrically decorated, which he had learned was her way of saying she thought it cluttered and nonsensical, but he liked everything in it. There was no theme, no strict decor. Only soft pillows, warm colors, and an almost overwhelming feeling of home.

  “Hello. You must be Thomas,” Alexa’s mother, a tall woman with Alexa’s eyes and hair, said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Meghan. If you need anything, just ask me or Alexa.” She left as Thomas adopted a look of utter confusion.

  He stared at Alexa and then at the long collection of photos scattered around the room. Almost all contained Alexa and her mom. Some were at Disneyland or Sea World, but most of them were simply birthday parties or school events. Sometimes other people appeared, and the recent ones always had a member of the gang in it, but for the most part it was just the mother and her daughter.

  “But you’re Asian,” Thomas pointed out. John laughed. Thomas, bewildered, looked at Derek. “Did you know?” His eyes were so wide that Derek almost felt bad for agreeing not to tell him.

  “We all did.” Derek gave him a small smile. “If it makes you feel better, Allie spent hours looking up Vietnamese cultural tips and traditions to impress Alexa’s family.”

  “I did not,” Allie muttered, pulling her girlfriend a little closer. Alexa laughed and gave Thomas a half-apologetic shrug.

  “I’m adopted. My mom found me when I was a baby and decided to keep me. And for the record, I wanted to tell you, but John insisted we keep it a surprise.”

  John rolled his eyes. “We’re all assholes here, okay?” He raised his Sprite can. “To us.” Thomas and Derek didn’t have drinks yet, so Cynthia got up and passed them each a Coke. They reached for the same one and their hands brushed. Derek smiled and let Thomas take it.

  “To us,” they all echoed once everyone had a drink. Thomas’s voice broke on the us, and he was quick to down a gulp to cover it up. John smirked, but there was no venom behind it, and he didn’t draw attention to Thomas. Derek looked at his newest friend, sitting next to him on the couch a little hunched over, legs pressed tight together as if trying to take up as little space as possible.

  He does that at school too, Derek thought. He recognized many of Thomas’s habits, from the constant fidgeting to the occasional rocking and the soft humming. No one else mentioned it. Derek supposed he just happened to look at Thomas more often.

  Derek saw Thomas give him a small, hopeful smile. Thomas was wearing a formerly black shirt underneath his worn leather jacket, each fold hanging on him in a loose grasp. His cheeks were warm with life, eyes gleaming, and Derek realized three things.

  First, Thomas didn’t smile enough. When he did it was almost always faint, silent, hidden away. Derek decided he didn’t like that. He wanted to see Thomas smile all the time. There was no reason Thomas had to treat his smiles like he did his words, a secret to keep among friends.

  Second, his hair may have been unkempt, but it was clean. Derek had a sudden urge to run his fingers through the black mess, not to untangle it but to just feel it beneath and between his fingers. It looked soft and reflected the light that poured into the living room. Each strand fell off his head and a few hung over his forehead, getting in his eyes. Derek liked Thomas’s eyes. He didn’t want them hidden.

  Third, Derek wanted to make Thomas happy and safe and comfortable. To wrap him up in hugs and casual affection that would make John roll his eyes and Alexa squeal. Above all else, Derek wanted Thomas to know that he was loved, that he had never and could never disappoint anyone.

  In short, Derek was utterly screwed.

  “Thomas, poke Derek, will you? He’s off thinking when he’s supposed to be spending time with us.” Alexa interrupted that train of thought. All Derek could think was Thank God no one noticed I was staring.

  “No, I’m fine,” he lied. “What are we going to play first?”

  Help, I am very much not fine, he texted Alexa that night. He explained his realization and, to his surprise, she kept her teasing to a minimum. Do u think I should tell him? Do u think he’d like me back?

  Ur good friends do it came her reply not minutes later. It was easy for her to say. She was in the most stab
le and healthy relationship Derek had ever seen.

  But what would we do? See a movie? Derek thought about it while waiting for a response. He had already gone to movies with Thomas. Their first date had to be something different. A picnic? U did that w Allie once, yeah?

  Do u think he wld want 2 go on a picnic? Alexa had a point. But Derek didn’t want to take Thomas to the zoo or to a museum. That seemed too traditional. There just wasn’t much else Derek could think of doing for a date.

  Alexa pointed out that he needed to ask Thomas out first. Derek sent her a flurry of poop emoticons. She replied with a few eggplants. God, did Derek love his friends.

  During history, Derek looked over at Thomas and marveled at how soft he looked. He reminded himself this was not the time to be distracted. “Do you want to see a movie this weekend?” he asked.

  Thomas blinked at him. “Sure.” Thomas went back to the questions they were supposed to be answering. Derek realized he hadn’t been clear enough and cursed himself for poor word choice. At least he could blame the dyslexia for that. If this went poorly, it was entirely on him.

  Thomas, of course, was good at writing, if his essays had anything to say about it. Any doubts about his academic prowess were thoroughly silenced when Thomas consistently got better grades than Derek in everything. He’s nice, into science fiction, and brilliant. Go fucking figure, Derek thought.

  “I meant on a date. I would like to go on a date with you where we buy popcorn and hold hands and maybe kiss at the end if you want,” Derek blurted out, not intending to say anything after the first five words.

  Thomas stared at him. Then he looked away, eyes unfocused.

  Derek sat there. He didn’t begrudge Thomas for rejecting him, but he would have liked a straight answer.

  “I like you too,” Thomas said as the period ended, thirteen minutes and eighteen painful seconds later. “But we can’t date.” Derek got no explanation, Thomas exiting the room without a glance back.