Mickey

`Give him some space,' was his brother's last piece of advice.

And it seemed like the right thing to do.

For the next few weeks, Mickey did his best just to let the relationship take its course. He looked for any occasion or situation to spend time together, but didn't want to seem like he was asking Drew out on dates. Not that he wouldn't do it in a second, but, like his brother advised him, he tried to not push too hard.

Fortunately, Drew was still concerned with his recovery and regularly asked Mickey to lunch and other events just to `check up on him' as he said. To Mickey that was always an excuse to reciprocate, which served to at least temporarily satisfy him. And as the weeks went on, the catalyst for much of their interaction was anticipation of the coming basketball season.

`Hey bud, having lunch with my friend Andrew at the Broadway Cafe, might be a good opportunity for you to meet one of the guys on the team. He also went to Middlefield. Yes?' the text read.

Even though he and Sara had previously made plans, his mind was already trying to figure out how to have it both ways. He sure didn't want to get Sara riled up, not to mention that his budget for eating out was less than limited. But this was Drew. He hit the call button.

"Hey!" Mickey exclaimed. He was trying to be calm, but the enthusiasm couldn't stay bottled up.

"Thanks for the quick call back. So...?" his voice was tentative, Mickey thought, like he was bracing himself in case of a negative answer. `Can't let him worry,' he thought to himself.

"Sounds great! But can Sara come too? We had already made some plans, and you know how she can be sometimes."

"Sara! She'll hate me for it" Drew replied, only half joking. "I'm sorry to upset your plans and get you in trouble. But seriously, would you ask her? No worries if she objects, we could to it some other time."

"No worries, I'll ask her now, just hold the line."

With the phone still in his hand but put on mute, Mickey quickly scooted over to her room and knocked on the door. He had only gotten out the words..."Drew wants to know if we can have lunch together today..." when she interrupted him.

"You and him? You're jilting me?!"

"No, I'm not jilting you! You know that you'll always be my Number One," he replied, smiling as he imagined her rolling eyes. "It's all of us. And he's bringing a friend, too, so you won't feel like a third wheel."

He heard a long exhale of air on the other side of the door. "The things that I do for you..."

"Thanks!" Mickey responded, his hand quickly going for the mute button again.

"It's all set, she'll be joining us," Mickey said. "But you don't need to come all the way over here, though. We can..."

"No problem, We'll be coming from the gym, so it's not that far."

"OK, meet you there."

In twenty minutes Mickey had them in line, ready to order.

"I'll have the ham and cheese sandwich, on a baguette, with just lettuce and mayo, thanks," Mickey said to the woman behind the counter, who immediately started reaching for the ingredients in the manner of a well-practiced ritual.

"You're sure nothing else?" Drew asked. "That sounds kind of light."

"Nope, I'm good. Sometimes I just like it real simple," he replied. "Are you going to load it up again?" he asked in turn, smiling.

"Still haven't forgotten about that ice cream cone, have you?" Drew retorted, giving Mickey a challenging look.

Mickey just smiled as he pulled out his wallet for the cashier. "Just sayin'..."

"Hey, you're not paying for this," Drew replied as he reached for his own wallet. But Mickey was too quick with his hand.

"My treat," he replied, passing his money over the counter.

It was a bit awkward at first. Being pretty certain that Andrew was the one who had outed' him, Mickey was initially suspicious of his intentions. Why would he do that?' he asked himself. What memories he had of him were of the kind of guy who would dance on the tables in the vaulted dining hall of their school if it got him attention.

And Andrew seemed to have the same ambivalence. For how Mickey remembered him, he was unusually reserved. And Mickey had to admit that it was difficult to fault his courtesy. Maybe something had changed, he thought, as they spent the first few minutes recalling common acquaintances and folklore from Middlefield.

"I didn't know Mickey well,' he said to Sara, who he faced across the odd-fashioned sharp-edged white stone table top that was one of the signature décor pieces of the outdoor seating area. "But he had a great reputation at the school as a top notch student."

"Reputations aren't necessarily good things. People start gunnin' for you,' Mickey interjected, pronouncing the words with his best Midwestern accent by emphasizing the absence of the g' on the end. "And besides, she has her share of enem...I mean rivals,' too."

"Well, I think you're both right. It looks like Mickey has the same reputation here as he did in boarding school, and people are also, as he says, `gunnin' for him," she answered before putting a napkin to her face. Mickey sensed that she was trying to cover up a smile, but couldn't be sure.

"And regarding me," she continued, "I think we all just have to admit that we're after the same thing. We're colleagues and all that, but we're competitors, too."

It was actually a true comment, and from anyone else would have been viewed as professional and mature, Mickey thought. From her of course, one never quite knew but if one assumes snarky' they would almost always be safe. On the way over he had extracted a promise of good behavior' from her toward Drew but hadn't mentioned Andrew. He was hoping that he needn't regret that omission.

"And what was your reputation," she asked Andrew as she pulled her spoon off of the china saucer and started to stir her coffee.

He sat back in his chair. "They would have called me a fuck-up," he replied. Pride and shame in the same voice.

"Well, you couldn't have been too much of one to get into this school," she replied, with a hint of skepticism. "I'd like to hear your offenses, that's always my favorite part. It really says a lot more about a person's character."

Mickey kicked her under the table, but she just kicked him back.

He inhaled, then let out a long blast of air. "Much as that I would like to recount my wasted youth, the good news was that I finally got my act together before senior year. Probably too late to improve my well-earned reputation, but not too late to at least get respectable numbers in front of the admissions committees."

`Touché,' Mickey thought to himself.

"That wasted youth still interests me, but congratulations none the less," she said, and raised her half-empty coffee cup to him for a toast.

In Drew's case, he felt a deference to her because of Mickey. But Andrew had no such obligations and fortunately, seemed immune to her baiting and confrontational spirit. In fact, he seemed to handle it pretty well on his own terms.

"Cheers," both Drew and Mickey said as they raised up their own glasses.

After he put down his glass, Drew said, "Would you guys excuse me for a second, I need to use the restroom" and quickly pushed his chair back behind himself.

Drew had hardly gotten out of the chair when he seemed to get tripped up and then knocked violently into the table next to them, pushing the two occupants hard up against a nearby steel column.

"Oh sorry," they heard Drew say. "I guess my leg fell asleep. I'll try to be more careful next time," he said in a dull monotone. Mickey thought he had said something else to them as he was pulling the table back, but couldn't quite make out what it was.

"You OK, Drew?" Mickey asked, quickly getting up out of his chair as Drew was about to continue on his path to the bathroom.

"Oh yeah, I'll be fine, back in a sec. No worries!" he answered.

Mickey was surprised by the calmness of his response, which was in stark contrast to the trauma in the faces of the two victims, who seemed so shaken up that they immediately started packing up their things to leave. But at least Drew seemed OK.

Once Drew returned from the bathroom they continued talking for the next half hour, sometimes the four of them together, but often splitting into the pairs who were facing each other. A few minutes before the need to leave, Drew brought up joining the basketball league.

"Of course I'd like to join you guys. It would really be fun. When do we start?"

"After you pass your test," Drew replied, his voice flat. It was an odd answer, all the more suspicious with the tone of the voice.

"What test?"

"This test." He replied. Then Drew looked straight at Mickey.

As soon as he did that, Andrew bumped his shoulder into Mickey with such a force as to nearly knock him off of his seat. Mickey winced, then recovered and slid back over to the center.

He smiled, but was completely confused. "What was that all about?" he asked as he reached over to massage his shoulder.

Drew could see his confusion and was no longer coy. "I wanted to see how you reacted to someone knocking into your shoulder. It's just intramurals, but it can get pretty rough out there. If a little bump would put you in a lot of pain we would need to delay your league debut. But I know that you want to play so I needed to see for myself whether you were ready or not."

"You're right about that!" Sara said.

"That one guy you met at the picnic, his name was Dave. Well, I wouldn't say he's the worst street ball player in the league, but he doesn't exactly exude..." Andrew said, then pondered for a moment.

"...Sportsmanship." Drew interjected, an ironic tinge in his voice.

"Like I said, you banged up your shoulder pretty bad, Mickey. I...just wanted to make sure that you'd be prepared."

"Did I pass?" he replied.

"You winced, but then he bumped you pretty good, a lot more than I thought he would. I had only suggested a strong nudge."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to go overboard. But Drew was really worried, so I thought we may as well be sure the first time. My biggest fear was that he'd ask me to just keep bumping you harder and harder and harder..." he said as he leaned over with his arms giving the impression of a battering ram as they all laughed at his mime.

"But seriously," Drew said, after the laughter had subsided. "I didn't want you going out there if you were really vulnerable. Like I said, some of these guys are pretty rough. As much fun as it is, it's not just game for some of these guys. It's a lot more serious."

"Sorry it seems kind of extreme. But I just wanted to make sure that you'd be OK," Drew said, his voice almost dropping to a whisper.

"No worries, Drew, I appreciate the concern, but don't expect to avoid any pop quizzes yourself in the future," he said as he conspicuously winked his eye.

To leave the outdoor dining area they had to go back through the seating area, which included a sports bar with a blaring TV. Being daytime and with none of the major sporting events that would often draw in huge crowds to the big screen, the population was sparse but the TV continued to drone on.

Mickey wasn't even aware that it was on until he heard the words "so-called gay `marriage''' from an announcer railing about how unfit lesbians were to raise children. He looked up at the screen to see the announcer and just then realized that it was Drew's stepmother, surrounded by a gallery of family photos and mementos.

There was no way that Drew or any of them could avoid the missive, or fail to make the connection with their friend. No one said anything at first, until Sara turned and whispered to Mickey, "I'm surprised she has pictures of her sons without straws up their noses."

Mickey understood the joke but was more concerned with Drew, who was just ahead of them. There was a very slight tilt in his head in the direction of the screen as he led them to the exit, snaking his way between all the tables scattered throughout the room. But he never paused.

As they emerged from the dark cavern of the bar area into the blast of daylight, Mickey noticed Drew's slumped down head. He seem to be staring at the ground until Mickey approached. Drew and Sara were cut off by some people entering the bar so were lagging behind.

"You OK?" Mickey asked quietly.

He quickly looked up. "Oh yeah, sorry, I just got a bit distracted. But I'm OK, no problem," he responded. Then he quickly changed the subject.

"So are you looking forward to the games? The first one is coming up this week," he continued, his posture and smile slowly starting to recover. "Our gang has already divided itself into two teams, Dave's and ours. Of course, you'll be on our team. And we just so happen to play those other guys next week."

"Yeah, I am. I can't wait to do something that has no stakes and isn't part of a test or exam or evaluation," he responded.

"Me too," Andrew added as he and Sara rejoined them. "But as Drew said earlier, there are a few who still take the whole thing pretty seriously, especially Dave and some of his crew. So be prepared."

After Drew went off to his volunteer job and Mickey left to meet a study group, Sara saw an opportunity to corner Andrew before he got away himself. She exchanged some small talk for a few moments until she was sure that both Mickey and Drew were out of conversations range.

"I need to ask you a couple questions and I need some answers," she said to him, sounding more like a prosecutor than she intended. But she didn't apologize.

However she sounded, Andrew was non-plussed. With his own father being a rather well-known litigator in Washington it was not his first time under intense scrutiny and he just looked over at her.

"Fire away, counsel," he replied.

Sara chuckled in response, but didn't ease up. "I need to tell you that your friend is causing a lot of grief and heartache for Mickey. I know this might sound crazy, but I'll get right to the point," she said, crossing her hands on her chest.

"My gay friend Mickey is rapidly getting very attracted to your friend, Drew. I won't use the "L" word, but he's starting to fall for him and pretty damn hard at that. I don't know if your pal is just a super nice guy, a tease, a closet case or whatever. But I don't think that Mickey can go on like this forever," she said, looking straight at him and for the first time noticing his curly brown hair.

"It's no secret who his family is, so frankly, I don't expect that much happiness is going to come out of this for Mickey. In fact, I'd be shocked if it did. But sooner or later this needs to get resolved for Mickey's sake," she continued,

"So what is going on?" she asked in conclusion.

"You're pretty direct," Andrew replied, still not retreating from her gaze. "But I think Drew warned me that I should expect nothing less."

"Well, I'm glad that you were warned. But meanwhile, I'm watching Mickey torture himself, so the sooner I can see an end to that the better."

Drew looked off to the side, but not because of Sara. "In answer to your question, let me tell you what I think, but it's not a simple answer," he replied, then he looked back at her.

"I've known Drew for almost three years now, and up until a couple weeks ago, if someone had even intimated that he was gay, well...I would have told them that they were crazy. I couldn't imagine a more unlikely candidate."

"Up until a couple weeks ago?" she queried back.

He didn't answer at first, but just said, "Let's go back into the bar and sit down."

"Sounds good,' she replied as she hiked her purse over her shoulder, "Let's go."

"To be honest," he started, after they had sat down in the bar area and ordered beers from the waiter. "I'm not even sure that this makes sense to me. It's all very strange, and I still can't say it for sure. It still sounds ridiculous. Not that it's ridiculous to be gay," he quickly interjected, "But with all the circumstances of his situation, it almost can't fit. But, and I'll qualify this..." he continued.

"It's the one good explanation."

"His being gay?" She asked.

"Yeah," he replied. "But it's such a crazy notion that I can hardly say it."

"You know, he's dated girls in the past, we even went on a double date once. It was very friendly and all, but I can't say that I've noticed a spark with any women, at least the ones that I've seen him with. And, believe me, he had the chance. Girls threw themselves at him."

"Because his family is rich?"

"Of course there are a few of those. But there were also a couple who seemed to just like him because he's a good guy. And I can say this too, as a straight guy looks at a competitor in the hunt for mates," he continued, putting his hands behind his head and looking at the coffered wooden ceiling, reminiscent of an English pub, "he's a handsome guy. Girls fall for him."

"Well, I have to admit, I can see how some girls would, though other aspects of him don't exactly get me excited," Sara replied.

Andrew immediately took his eyes off the ceiling and looked at her, his look gaining a surprising sharpness. "That's because people judge him for his family and not for who he is. He's not his Dad, and he's certainly not his step mom."

Sara was surprised by the intensity of his response, especially as she had been taking him for a rather laid-back guy. "Well, I will give you that one. I have to admit I have warmed to him – some. He took really extraordinary care of Mickey after that episode with the demonstrators."

"See, that's it!" Drew responded, his hand striking the table. "That's the thing about him now. He's always been very polite and all, even to the girls he's taken out. But...it's not even close to what he does for Mickey," he continued.

"But don't you think it's just repayment for Mickey taking that hit for him?" she asked, as the waiter brought their beers and set them down at the table.

Before he continued, Sara raised her glass in a toast. "Cheers," she said as they clanged glasses and she actually smiled at him for the first time.

Andrew was clearly startled for moment, but then continued. "See, that's the thing. He'd tell you that he owes Mickey and all that, and I'm sure some of that is true. But, this is hard to describe...like...there's no burden in it. It isn't a repayment of debt. It's not an onerous duty. It's something he seems to really enjoy. It's like the repayment is just an excuse to...," he paused for a moment.

"...take care of him?" Sara said, finishing his sentence.

"Exactly!" he responded.

"Has he told you some of the stuff that he's done?"

"I know that he brought him some food the next day. The excuse was because Mickey was laid up and couldn't go out and get things for himself, but I only knew that because he bailed out of breakfast with a bunch of the guys."

Sara then proceeded to tell him about Drew's visits, not only on that particular morning but over the entire next week. "He couldn't do enough," she said as she concluded the list.

Drew sat back in his chair. "huh..." he said to himself. He paused, but his mind was clearly working. He was one of those people who turns their head when they are cogitating, like they are imagining looking at information from different angles.

"This whole episode with having me bump into Mickey as a test. I thought of it like the kind of joke that you play on your friends," he said. Then his eyes went down and he looked embarrassed.

"You know, I told him that Mickey was gay. As you probably knew, Mickey and I both went to Middlefield Academy, I was a couple years behind him. Anyway, long story short, Drew definitely seemed kind of stunned by the news."

"You felt it was necessary to tell Drew that Mickey was gay?" she asked, raising her eyebrows and glaring at him like it was the dumbest thing she had ever heard.

"I know! I know!" he replied, shame and embarrassment in his voice. "It was stupid and childish. I guess that I wanted to ingratiate myself with a tidbit of gossip, which I really regretted after it came out of my mouth. Just plain stupid." He took a deep swig of his beer.

"What do you think that Drew made of all this?" she asked, trying to not let her irritation get in the way of the inquiry.

There was noticeable thud when his beer bottle hit the table, but he didn't immediately answer.

"At first, he seemed annoyed, but more with me than with whatever it meant about Mickey. It was kind of more about why I even said it than about Mickey himself. Anyway, after talking for a couple minutes we had moved on," he continued. "Then, kind of out-of-the-blue, he asked me how I knew that Mickey was gay."

"Well, do you think he was just trying to verify it? Maybe he thought that you were mistaken, or that you were just spreading rumors?"

"Maybe," he answered, "I think he wanted to be sure of what he had heard. But I have to say, I really felt like there was also an element of `Can you tell if someone is gay?' to it. Do you know what I mean? It was a non-sequitur in terms of the conversation we were having and he said it in a way that almost seemed innocent and naïve rather than challenging or doubting."

Neither one of them spoke for a few moments, Andrew absentmindedly peeling the label off of the now empty beer bottle and Sara just rolling the base of hers around on the table.

Andrew finally broke the silence. "Damn, I still have to say this. It would be incredible if Drew was gay. There is absolutely nothing in my acquaintance with him, not to mention his family...,"

"But they don't count..." Sara interjected

"But they do, Sara, you can't ignore them. His family is part of who he is, it's baggage that everyone has whether they like it or not. No one can escape that. It doesn't mean it's their fate and they have no choices. But it affects what they do, for better or worse. I really believe that," he proclaimed.

"But having gotten that out on the table, the only explanation that really explains his behavior is the he has feelings for Mickey that are more than just friendship."

"Well, why wouldn't he just act on it?" Sara said, thinking the answer was simple.

"The obvious answer is his family. They're a bunch of conservative homophobes, they could ostracize him, throw him out of the house, that's got to be huge. But I think it might be something more than that."

"What else would he need? Even I can accept that excuse," she replied, her voice gaining some sympathy.

"Well, one is that he could really be confused about his own feelings, which is possible, especially from that family," he said, but in a way that was skeptical of his own conclusion. "But there's something else here, I can't quite put my finger on it."

"I don't know if this will help," Sara said, "but the one way to interpret his actions is that he's extremely protective of Mickey. I have to admit that I snapped at him once when I heard Drew sort of giving orders to Mickey. At the time, I thought he was acting, well, like a..."

"Patterson?" Andrew asked, already aware of the answer.

"Yes, like Patterson. Like Mickey was an employee or something. Maybe I was right, I hate to admit that I was wrong..."

"Go ahead!" Andrew replied. "I know that Drew would enjoy that!"

She let out her first laugh of their conversation. "But, I have to say, he's not bossy at all, not really. He just wants to make sure the Mickey takes care of himself," she said, then paused for a moment.

"You know, I think that he's just being protective. I guess I should give him credit for that."

Andrew's head went back, then his palms pounded his forehead. "That explains it!"

"Explains what?"

He brought his head back down and laid his hands on the table. "You know when he bumped' into that table next to us," he said, his fingers in the air to emphasize the work bump.'

"Yeah, I remember. For anyone to trip that badly, wow, their leg must have been sound asleep."

"To be honest, at the time it didn't really seem like an accident. It looked to me like Drew had actually done it on purpose. I couldn't quite make that fit, but I just let it go, I thought I had just imagined that. But now that I think of it, I was right. He actually rammed that table into those guys as hard as he could."

"Why would he have done that?" she asked, pulling her chair closer to the table.

"Those guys were whispering and snickering, and I thought they were looking a lot at Mickey, and well, making fun of him. Drew was closer to them than me, and he would have heard them for sure," he said. "I wonder if Mickey had heard any of it."

"Maybe," she replied. "But I think that he just tunes out that junk if he can help it. Unless someone gets in his face, he's just taught himself to ignore people like that."

"I was going to say, that apology didn't sound much like an apology at all, especially coming from our Mr. Patterson. He's a lot more polite than that, I have to admit," she added. "Making it look like he tripped would save Mickey any embarrassment."

Both of them were quiet for a moment before Andrew finally spoke.

"I really don't know where this is going and I still can't really believe the stuff that we're saying here. But I will tell you this. If this is in any way true, all hell is going to break loose."