Archive of Our Own

"I'm sorry," Bram said, getting himself together. "It's just that you wake me up in the middle of the night to tell me you might be gay and you're scared that you can't like girls."

"Well, I am. So, what do I do?" Garrett said, and Bram could tell he was genuinely worried. 

"Do you like girls?" Bram asked, trying to find a starting point for this conversation while still half-asleep. Garrett grunted a yes. "Well, you know you don't have to pick one gender to date. You can date whoever you want."

"But Bram," Garrett said, "It's like -- I don't even see that he's a guy or that a girl I think is hot is a girl, you know? It just -- it goes over my head. It's like I see it way after I've already started thinking about asking them out."

He could hear silence on the other end, and he hoped that Bram was just thinking, like smart people did when given a question, and hadn't fallen asleep. "Garrett... I think you're not gay if you still like girls." Garrett sighed in relief. "You're probably bi or something like that," Bram said with a soft yawn, and Garrett froze. 

"Any idea of how to not be bi?" he asked. 

Bram pulled the phone away from his ear to stare at it incredulously. "How to not be bi? That would be about as easy as telling that kid you were just talking about not to be cute."

"But Bram, I can't be bi. You know I can't," Garrett said worriedly. 

"Well... there's nothing you can really do to stop doing that," Bram said gently, and he heard a groan from Garrett's end. "I know it's going to be hard, buddy. It always is. I'm here if you need to talk, even if it's ridiculously late like now." Bram grinned. 

"You sure?" Garrett asked, his voice dropping as if someone was walking by the room at that moment. 

Bram adjusted himself, then said, "Tell me about this guy you like. I want to see if I can figure out who he is if he's in my class." 

Garrett sat back against the headboard, trying to think of how to describe him that wouldn't freak Bram out. "He's kind of short. Like, up to my nose short, so not actually that short. He's also really quiet, and he's really nice. He looks like if soft were a person." 

Bram considered this. "Was he at Simon's play?" Garrett confirmed this. "You like Cal? Well, his name's actually Calvin, Calvin Price," Bram explained. 

"That's his name?" Garrett said, not realizing he was grinning, "That's adorable." So much for not being bi. "Do you... do you happen to know if he likes guys?" 

"I think Simon said he's openly bisexual," Bram said. Before Garrett, who did not really understand this stuff, asked, he added, "Being bisexual doesn't mean you need both to live. It's just that you'd be fine dating either."

"Okay, cool, thanks," Garrett said, and Bram could hear him nodding like he totally knew that. "Thanks, Bram. For being able to talk about this stuff," Garrett said, "I know it's a bad time to call, and it's kind of weird to talk about that stuff."

"Oh, no problem, Garrett," Bram said, "Anytime you want to talk."

"One more question before I hang up. I know you're not supposed to look up illnesses on Google, but this isn't an illness. Is Google safe?"

Bram laughed. "I'm pretty sure it's safe. I'd stay away from quizzes, though."

"Okay, bye," Garrett said and hung up. As soon as he hung up, Garrett was looking up stuff. He couldn't help it. 

At school the next day, Garrett pulled Bram over. "Hey, so I looked up some stuff. And I took notes."

Bram looked at the seven papers covered front-and-back with multicolored notes. "And you still want me to do your History stuff?"

"I did do some history," Garrett said, "Learned about Stonewall by accident." Bram laughed. "Okay, so I figured out what I am. So, there's this thing, where you don't see genders of people you like, pansexual. I think that's me." 

"Okay," Bram said, nodding, "That's great. You figured this out pretty quick. Did you sleep at all?"

"I slept about five minutes. You know when some things just fit? Like when you're watching something and a character acts like you, and you're just like, 'that's me'? That's what this was like." 

Garrett was really feeling these weird analogies that actually did make sense today, Bram thought. "I take it you're fully accepting yourself as who you are?"

"Yup," Garrett said proudly. He had brought it up to his parents; they said that they would be okay if he did happen to be gay, but they were pretty sure that Garrett couldn't like boys like that -- it had been a very weird morning.

"So, what are you planning on doing about the Cal situation?"

"I don't know," Garrett said, sounding like he'd gotten caught. "I know how to date girls because, you know, I've dated them, but guys? I don't get guys. Especially guys who do theater."

The bell rang for class, and Bram said quietly, "Try just talking to him. That's a start."

When Garrett sat down in his English class, the first thing he noticed was that Cal was in his class, sitting literally two seats behind him. How did he not notice that before? How? Cal grinned at him when he saw Garrett looking at him. Garrett smiled back, then promptly tripped and dropped his multicolored notes on various sexualities. He swore under his breath, then went to grab all of them before someone read them. He rounded them up and counted all six of them. Wait, six? He'd made seven pages. Shoot. Where was the seventh?

"Hey." Garrett looked up to see Cal standing over him, holding the last page. "You dropped this."

"Oh, thanks," Garrett said, taking the paper, and panicked when their hands brushed, "I'm Garrett."

"I know. We've been in this class together for the whole year," Cal said, smirking a little, then looked down at the paper. "Doing some research on musicals?"

"Um--" Garrett looked at the paper he had been handed and saw the second line said 'RENT' so he'd remember to listen to it later at lunch, forgetting completely that Cal actually did theater, "--Kind of. I don't know a lot of those, so I'm starting somewhere."

Cal seemed happy to see that, and Garrett thought his soul had ascended. "Well, if you want suggestions, I have some. Most afternoons, I'm at play practice, but we're cool with visitors." 

"You act?" Garrett asked.

"Well... no," Cal said, "I'm a director. I'm not very good at acting. Or singing. But I really like theater, and directing's fun."

The teacher came over to tell them both to sit down, but Garrett's mind was spinning. Soccer practice had gotten a rain check today, and he thought Bram mentioned that Simon had play practice today... 

"Garrett? Garrett!" Nick said at lunch, and Garrett snapped out of his daze. He was listening to a song and thinking about it. "What are you listening to?"

"Nothing," Garrett said, pulling out his earbuds and stuffing his phone in his pocket. 

Garrett was checked out for the rest of the school day. Leave a message at the beep or something. If someone asked him what History was about, he would've said something unrelated. Finally, he was in an auditorium chair after school before anyone from the theater was there. He wasn't sure what was going on when things started up, but he really didn't care. He was here for one thing and one thing only. When Cal walked in, Garrett felt that same light feeling in his chest again. Cal looked so happy! It was adorable! If this was what it was like to have a crush on a guy, Garrett wanted to know why he'd waited so long.

The people on stage were setting up, and Cal was getting out a headset -- the opening night was coming up. Garrett jumped when the mic seemed to shout over the speakers, "Testing, one, two." Again, Garret's focus on the big picture was gone, and he was now ogling at Cal. How he didn't sense someone's eyes staring shamelessly at him, no one knows. 

"Okay, so Martin isn't here," Abby was saying, "He said he had a dentist appointment."

Ms. Albright sighed. "Cal, can you step in as Raoul? I can do the direction." Cal looked shy but agreed that he'd do it and went backstage to put on the costume. Garrett was curious to know what show they were actually doing. He had no idea who Raoul was. "Okay, so we're going to run the 'All I Ask Of You' song," Ms. Albright said, "Since Taylor wanted to practice that bit."

Cal came out wearing a vest and a long coat, looking like he had been given stolen clothes from the late 1800s. "I think I'm ready." Ms. Albright gestured to the lighting people and the sound people. They got everything set up while Cal arranged himself on the stage. The first note was sour, and the rest was completely flat. Cal didn't seem to know how to act at all -- he was playing the romantic male lead as one would a sweet old grandmother, but Garrett sat with rapt attention.

Some other people were sitting in the audience as well, and a few started whispering. When Garrett heard one pair seated two seats behind him say something negative about Cal's singing, he turned around, snapping at them that they had no taste. Cal sounded great, he told them. Once he was done scolding them, he resumed resting his head on his arms, which were draped over the one in front of him. With a smile on his face, he thought, if he had to be attracted to guys, he was glad that his taste was adorable.

Once practice ended, it seemed like Cal couldn't get himself changed fast enough. He seemed so uncomfortable. Garrett suddenly wanted to do something for him, something that might make him feel better. The problem was, he had about five minutes to figure it out. And he knew nothing about Cal, so he couldn't think of what might improve his mood. And what did people even do for people they liked when they were in a bad mood?

He stepped outside, trying to think. It was pouring, and no one except him seemed to have remembered a coat. Any dandelions that were out there were now drenched, so that attempt at flirting was out. "Why is it that I've got this under control with girls, but as soon as guys exist, I'm a mess?"

Cal was one of the last people to leave, and Garrett could see him peeking through the glass door, waiting for the rain to lighten up, then seemed to just say forget it and went out. He didn't seem to care that his hair was getting soaked; all that mattered was that the binders in his arms didn't get wet, so he walked out in a hunched-over position, frowning in displeasure. He was just having a rough time. 

Garrett called, "Hey, Cal?" Cal looked up like he'd been harassed enough already, "You did really well."

Cal looked at the ground. "Sure, everyone's been telling me that since I got offstage."

"No, seriously, I thought it was great," Garrett said, approaching him and removing his coat. He held it over Cal's head like a tent. "Here, I'll cover you."  Cal looked up at him like he had made a weird joke, but Garrett himself didn't get it. "I can walk you to your car if you want."

"I walk home, actually, but thanks," Cal said, seeming much shyer than he had in class. 

"Well, in that case, would you like a ride?" Garrett asked him, smiling embarrassedly. 

"I know how to open car doors, but thank you," Cal said as Garrett opened the door for him. Once they were both inside the car, Garrett asked him if there was a certain kind of music he wanted to listen to, and Cal didn't really have a preference. So, naturally, Garrett simply plugged his phone into the auxiliary cord and accidentally blasted 'One Song Glory.'

"Sorry, I was listening to that earlier," Garrett muttered, turning down the volume -- he really should've lowered the volume anyway -- but Cal was grinning. "What?"

"I don't know, I just didn't think you'd... actually be interested in that," Cal said slowly, then looked out the window. Garrett had put his coat over Cal's shoulders, so Garrett was completely soaked. 

"Are you kidding? I almost cried during a math test today," Garrett exclaimed, and Cal smirked. "Like, why did he have to die?"

"A lot of musicals are sad," Cal said, shrugging, "I don't know why. They just are."

Garrett thought for a moment. "Do you ever think we could live in a musical? Not High School Musical, but you know, some kind of musical." Cal didn't answer, so he continued, "I mean, I hope if we were in a musical, it would be a happy one, right?" He looked over at Cal, who was staring at his lap. "What's wrong?"

"Sorry, I... just remembered that my parents are both working next Friday night," Cal answered, "Which means they aren't going to the show. And I was really excited that they'd finally see one of the shows I directed, but they won't. It's fine, I'm used to it, I just -- never mind." 

"Oh, that stinks, man. I'm sorry," Garrett said. 

Cal looked straight ahead. "I guess... Ms. Albright always gives the director a flower bouquet. My parents always seem to think I bought the flowers myself to spruce up the house. Then they're never home to enjoy them, so I have to be the only one enjoying them, and I have to throw them away when they go limp and die. I'm not sure why I just told you all that. I haven't even told Ms. Albright that I'm doing this alone." He hopped out of the car, leaving the jacket on the seat. "Thanks for the ride."

Garrett nodded, watching Cal go up to the door of the house and disappear inside. He looked at the driveway. It was empty; no cars were parked there yet. It looked so lonely. Like the soccer field when no one was there. But even sadder. Because someone was there, and they were all alone.

On Friday night, Garrett was standing in the lobby, wearing a full suit and tie. He held a small bouquet. He didn't want to overload Cal on flowers, but he didn't exactly want to be skimpy either. Apparently, the only people who showed up to these events dressed up were dads who had just come home from work, but for some reason, Garrett was cool with that. He thought he looked very snazzy.

Cal didn't have to act, which Garrett was a bit disappointed about -- it seemed like the whole rest of the planet didn't want it, but Garrett loved it when he acted. The Phantom Of The Opera was amazing. Not even considering that it was a low-budget high school production. The look on Cal’s face when everyone went out on stage for their ovation made his heart sink. He could tell that Cal wasn’t expecting anyone in the audience. Cal's face said, 'I did my best, and it wasn't enough for anyone I wanted to care.’

Garrett made the quick decision to follow the mob of parents backstage to give him the flowers, and he wasn't going to chicken out. As soon as he got backstage, though, he was sweating bullets. Where the heck was someone supposed to find the director? All the actors had dressing rooms, and all the parents were crowded around the doorways. He slid into a corner to wait it out but figured that people were probably just going to hang out and not move, so he'd have to go looking. 

"Cal?" he called. He had no idea where this bravery had come from; just a few days ago he couldn't figure out if he liked him as a friend or if he actually liked him. 

"Yeah?" came a tired, soft voice from behind him, and Garrett jumped. "Garrett! Hi! What're you doing here?"

Garrett said nothing, just pushed the flowers in front of himself embarrassedly. "I brought these -- for you. Because you said your parents weren't going to be here. So I came. As support or something." He caught a glimpse of himself in one of the dressing room mirrors. "And I look like someone's dad."

"You look snazzy," Cal assured him, taking the flowers. "Thank you so much!" He looked excited and embarrassed, and Garrett's heart couldn't take this. Cal hugged him, and Garrett froze completely. How was this guy so warm and so soft and so cute all at the same time? 

"I... so, um... do you... is it..." Garrett was a stuttering mess. "Would you... like to go out to dinner?"

Cal looked surprised. "As... friends?"

"Um..." Garrett looked around nervously. He wasn't exactly prepared to out himself in front of ninety-seven sets of parents and their kids, much less today. "Can I answer that in the hall or something?"

"Oh! Sure, definitely," Cal said, getting the point, and they went in the hallway. "So... I'm assuming that your hesitation means you were thinking not as friends? As in -- you're gay? Or something like that?"

"Yeah," Garrett said, then said, "No." Cal cocked his head to one side. "Yes, I want to go out with you as not friends, but no, I'm not gay. I'm pansexual, which is kind of gay, but--"
"I know what pansexual is," Cal laughed, "You're fine. Are you always this flustered?"

"Only when I'm trying to talk to someone that I don't want to sound stupid in front of," Garrett sighed, trying to calm his nerves down. "Look, I don't know what was expecting out of this, I don't know how to date men at all, and I'm going to mess up, and there's a lot of internal stuff going on right now, but I know that I really like you, and you're really cute, and I really want to date you, but I don't know if you'd actually be interested in... me."

Cal seemed to be processing this, and Garrett thought he was going to explode. If he didn't want to, couldn't he just say no? Cal looked up at him with a little smirk. "You know, I would've asked you first if I didn't think you were just a nice straight boy all this time."

"Is that a yes or a no?" Garrett asked, feeling a bit impatient. 

"Of course it's a yes! Why would I say no?" Cal laughed. 

Garrett released the breath he'd been holding. "Oh good. So I didn't bring sixty bucks in my sock for nothing." When Cal made a face, he assured him, "I'm wearing long socks; the money's in the cuff. It's nowhere near my shoe."

"You know, this should be fun," Cal said, looping his arm around Garrett's and resting his head on his shoulder. Garrett hadn't realized until the hug that Cal was significantly shorter than him. "Since neither of us has dated a guy before."

"Well," Garrett said, feeling much more relaxed and comfortable about being around Cal now that he was sure he liked him back, "I think fun's good."