They stood on the beach, arms around each other, holding on tight. Their heads rested on each other's shoulders and they were both crying quietly though they didn't know why.
"Robbie. Oh Robbie," Bryce sighed.
"Bryce, thank you - really thank you. What do we do now? We can't stand here all day."
"No, we can't. Come with me - back to my house."
"Back to your house? Bryce, I don't know."
"Come on, Little Boy.Please. I'm not going to hurt you. I'd never hurt you, Robbie. Come and take a chance on me."
"A chance?" A huge grin lit up his face. "Of course I will. What have I got to lose? Thanks Bryce."
"No, thank you, Robbie. Come on then."
They walked back up the beach road with Bryce still holding on to his arm. Robbie struggled and tried to pull it away.
"You can let go now you know."
"Can, but I won't. I'm not ever letting you go."
"Bryce, really - I'm not going anywhere. Take a chance on me."
He stopped at looked at him, then shook his head. "No. I'm not letting go, I've got too much to lose. I love you, Robbie Keenan."
"Bryce - oh, shit Bryce!" Robbie burst into tears when he kissed him again. "I love you, Bryce Hartigan. I really, really, love you."
"That's so cool. I love you too. Come on up to my room and I'll sing you silly love songs."
Back at the house, they went in by the front door. Bryce was still holding his arm, by the wrist now. A woman was vacuuming the hall and she stopped and turned the machine off when she saw them come in.
"Bryce? I thought I heard you come in before?"
"I did, but I had to go out again. Mum, this is my friend Robbie Keenan. Be nice to him, he's my best friend."
"Is he just?" she smiled. "Hello Robbie. Nice to meet you at last."
"Umm - Hello Mrs. Hartigan. At last?"
"Yes. I wondered when we were going to meet you. Bryce is always talking about you. You're the really, really, cool new kid in school."
"I ...umm...I'm not that cool."
"Don't tell me. Tell Bryce, he thinks you are. See you later Boys." She switched the vacuum on again.
"Come on Boy." Bryce led him upstairs to his room.
As soon as the door closed, they fell on each other. Lips engaged, tongues probed, arms embraced and bodies intertwined. They were standing in the middle of the room and everything was standing up. They could feel that too as their bodies pressed together.
Robbie was feeling flushed and hot. Incredibly, he was standing here making out with this most beautiful boy. Bryce was a work of art, he was perfect, and he loved him so much.
Then something strange happened. He was here, alone, with the perfect boy. He was hot and he was gay and he loved him and . . . he didn't want to do this.
"Bryce - ah - what's the time? I can't stay long." He pushed away from him and looked around. "You've got a cool room. Did you pick the colors yourself?" (The two long walls, the ceiling and the wooden floor were all an icy sky-blue color. The end walls were red - bright, vivid, blood-red, and the door, borders and window trimmings were a dark rich green.)
"Pick them? I painted them. Dad hates the blue, but I like it."
"He hates it, but he still let you do it? You're really lucky."
"Yeah, I guess. This is an old dump of a place. The grandparents used to have a shop downstairs. The parents are going to knock it down and rebuild when they can afford it, so until then I can basically do what I like with my room, as long as it stays inside the door."
"That's so cool. I can't do anything to my room. We just rent it from the bank, and I've got to share it with my brothers."
"At least you've got brothers. I've got two, but they're gone - they "growed and goed" There's just me at home now because I'm the baby of the family."
"And what a baby! I'm not, I'm the second eldest."
"Yeah, I know. Liz, then you, then Michael, Bruce and Sarah."
"Very good. How did you know all of that?"
"I've been watching. I've been watching you for weeks and weeks."
"You have? I've been watching you too."
"I know you have. Watching and running away every time I made a move towards you. Why's that Robbie?"
"Because. Well, I was scared, okay?"
"Scared? Of me? But why? I wouldn't hurt you. I'd never hurt you, I love you."
"But you would hurt me. Maybe not physically, but on the inside where it really counts. You could so easily break my heart, and you probably will. That's going to hurt more than any bumps or bruises."
"What do you mean - I probably will? I wouldn't do that to you, Robbie. I would never."
"Oh come on! Get real Bryce. It's going to happen if I get involved with you. I mean - look at us, we're hardly an ideal match are we?"
"I think we are. We could be. Why don't you think so? What's wrong with me?"
"There's nothing wrong with you, that's the trouble. You're absolutely perfect and I'm - well - I'm just me."
"What's wrong with you, Robbie? I don't see anything and I've been looking."
"You haven't been looking very hard then, have you?"
"Yes I have. I've been watching more than you know. You obviously have not. I'm not perfect. I'm far from perfect."
"You look pretty damn close to it to me."
That was the wrong thing; the absolute wrong thing for him to say and it touched a nerve in Bryce.
"Fuck you," he snarled. "You're no better than the rest of them. I thought you were bigger than that, Robbie Keenan. I really did. Obviously, I was wrong. Again. Comes from being a dumb blond, I suppose."
"You're not dumb." Robbie was surprised at his anger. What had he said that was so wrong?
"I thought you were different. I thought you could see past the surface, but you're just like everyone else. All you see is a pretty boy - a nice face and a good body. I'm not a lump of meat and I'm not a china doll either. I'm a person, a living, breathing person and I've got just as many faults as anyone else, maybe more. I'm human, Robbie, and not just a pretty face."
"Of course you are. I wasn't talking about your face."
"You were. You said I look pretty close to perfect."
"Well excuse me for telling the truth - you do. But it wasn't your face I was talking about. I meant you, Bryce, the person inside. Most people who look as good as you do are spoilt brats. They're selfish and all "me, me, me" you're not like that. You're warm and patient and caring and giving. Or, I thought you were. Looks like I was wrong too. You're just as superficial as you're saying everyone else is. You know what? Fuck you too. I don't need this, I'm outta here."
"Robbie, don't." Bryce moved to block the doorway. "Don't go, please."
"Please, schmeeze. Get out of my way, Creep,"
"Oh? I'm a creep now am I?"
"If you're not, you're doing a pretty good impersonation of one. Let me out."
"I don't think I can do that."
"You what? You can't keep me here."
"What happens if I get out of the way and let you go? Will you come back?"
"Why the hell should I?"
"Because I want you to? Robbie, please, don't go like this. Talk to me."
"All right. This is me talking - get out of my way, Fucktard."
"I'm not letting you go when you're like this. I can't. I can't let you walk out of here and hate me forever. I love you, Robbie Keenan."
"You don't love me. You don't even know me."
"I know you."
"Yeah, right. What's my favorite color then?"
"Look around you. Your favorite color is sky-blue. Why else do you think I painted my room this way. Sky-blue, emerald green and blood-red."
"But...But." Robbie looked around the room. "You're right actually. How did you know that?"
"You'd be surprised. I told you, I've been watching you."
"And you painted your room in my colors. Why?"
"Because you like them. When the bower bird builds a nest, he decorates it to attract a mate."
"You've been decorating your room to attract a mate?"
"No. Not just any mate. Just you."
"Umm...Wow! How did you know I'd even see your room?"
"I didn't, but I can dream can't I? Today you made my dream come true. Robbie, if you've really got to go, I'll let you out, but first tell me that you won't stay mad at me. I'm begging you here and I'm not used to that."
"No, you're not are you? What's my favorite song?"
"I'd like to think that it's Silly Love Songs, but it's not. Your favorite song is Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen."
"Umm. Wrong! That used to be, but it's not now. My favorite song is Little Boy."
"It is?"
"Yeah, it is. I think it's about time you kissed me, Doofus."
"Really? Oh, Robbie."
And he did. They dropped, together, on to the bed and lay there kissing and cuddling, their hands roaming idly over each other's clothed body. They did no more than that, but it was nice. It was great actually. Obviously, they had a lot of issues to work out, but there was no hurry, they'd get around to it.
Robbie felt that he'd seen more of Bryce than ever before. He was not just a gorgeous face on a fantastic body. He was those things, but he was more than that. He was a real person and he was not perfect. He loved him even more for that. It was incredible, unbelievable, that this ideal boy said that he loved him too. Life was great!
Later, he rang home for permission and he stayed and ate with Bryce's parents. They were nice people too - ('Well, they'd have to be, wouldn't they?')
All too soon, it was time for him to go. Bryce went outside with him, to say goodbye. They embraced and kissed once more, then Robbie broke away.
"Damn! I hate to do this, but I've really got to go. Sorry Bryce, I'd love to stay, but I've got no choice."
"Yeah., I know, Little Boy. I wish you could stay too, but you've got to go and do what you have to do. Ring me in the morning?"
"You bet I will. We'll have all day tomorrow - that is unless you've got other things to do?"
"I've got a game of footie, but that's all. I've got nothing else to do. Nothing's more important than spending time with you."
"Damn! I love you, you know. I can't believe that the most popular boy in town only wants to be with me."
"Who's that then?" Bryce grinned. "I'll kick his arse, whoever he is. Muscling in on MY boyfriend."
"Your boyfriend? That's cool, I'd love to be your boyfriend."
"Well, you are. But only if I can be yours."
"Oh, you can that my friend."
Bryce kissed him one more time and then he dropped a bombshell on him..
"Robbie, my friend, I'm not the most popular boy in town. You are."
"Me? Get real. No-one even wants to know me, except you."
"Of course I do, and so does everyone else, Toucan."
"Toucan? You think that I am Toucan?"
"No, I don't think it. I know you are. But that's okay, I'll still love you."
"You'd better! Okay, you're right. How did you know?"
"Told you, I've been watching you. When you came out on the stage in Brownsville, I knew who you were. No doubt about it."
"You're too clever. Have you got X-ray vision or something?"
"No, I'm just looking through the eyes of love."
"Ah, you're too sweet. I love you, Bryce. You won't tell anyone will you?"
"I won't tell anyone that you love me?"
"Well that too I suppose, but don't tell anyone about Toucan."
"Of course I won't. The last thing I'd want to do is to shoot Toucan down. I love Toucan. He's the best thing that ever happened to radio in this town."
"And you're the best thing that ever happened to me, but I've gotta go."
"You do. Go and play some silly love songs for me."
"Every love song is for you. But, love isn't silly, love isn't silly at all. Bye Bryce."
"Goodbye my love. See you tomorrow, and I'll be listening."
"You'd better be."
He hit the street running and jogged all the way home. Mr. Hartigan had offered to drive him home, but he declined. He needed the exercise.
At seven o'clock, Bryce turned on the radio in his room. After the news and sports, a serious voice came on the air. "This is West Radio, all over the Coast. We regret to inform listeners that Toucan will not be on the air this evening. Instead we will be playing five hours of excerpts from the musical classics. In the message received from Toucan, he has informed us that as this is Friday evening, he really can't be arsed."
There was a short break, enough time for Bryce to sit up and think, 'What?' Then some quiet orchestral music began. This was soon interrupted by the parrot screeching and the catch-cry, "Toucan. Toucan! Toucan!! Evening all. If we've got any listeners left, Good Evening to you both. Before we go any further, I want to start tonight's show with a special dedication. This song is for the one I love more than anyone else in the world. 'B', I hope you're listening because this one's for you. Gene Pitney's Looking Through the Eyes of Love."
The music started and Bryce was looking through tears. He was so choked up. He just loved that boy so much. How did he get to be so lucky?