Wade's hands were shaking. He couldn't seem to stop the subtle quiver as he pulled his West High School sweatshirt over his head. He paced for a minute, then studied himself in the mirror quietly.
Telling Tiffany that he was gay was going to be one of the hardest things he had ever done in his life and he was dreading it. He couldn't tell her. He had to tell her. He closed his eyes and thought about Christian.
Christian was a single phone call away, ready and waiting to erase all the pain that could possibly be inflicted on him by Tiffany's response and that made things easier. He might have to put up with Tiffany ranting and raging for a half hour or so, but then he could head over to Christian's and have all of that wiped away with a single kiss. He held this thought close for a long moment.
He left the comfort of his bedroom and headed downstairs to the living room to wait. He had planned the evening well, making sure that his parents would be out of the house before soldifying his plans with Tiffany. The one thing he wasn't ready to do was have his father find out that he was gay.
In the back of his mind, he knew that he and Christian were going to be a couple out in the open, but he wanted to postpone the actual confrontation as long as possible.
Just as he was sitting down on the sofa, the doorbell rang. He hopped back up and headed or the door, his heart racing in his chest. When he opened the door, he sighed. Tiffany looked lovely. She had on a pair of jeans that fit her curvy hips well and a wispy peasant blouse in some light pink color. Her familiar fragrance hit him and he could feel the loss of her friendship like a physical blow. He blinked back the scratchy feeling at the back of his eyes.
"Tiff, come in," he said, trying to smile but failing completely. She looked up at him with a half-smile that quickly faded.
"What's wrong?" she asked, stepping cautiously into the interior of the house.
"We've gotta talk," Wade told her, shutting the door and turning around to face her. He led the way into the living room.
"About what?" she asked, carefully.
"Us," he said, ignoring the wave of feelings that went through him, hot and cold.
"Oh, no," she said lowly. "Are we breaking up?"
Wade swallowed. Then, plunged in. "Yeah."
She was silent, then she stared up at him in shock.
"We're breaking up?" she asked again.
"Yeah," he said quietly.
She walked around in shock for a moment, her small form, treading an uneven path across the carpet. Then she whirled to face Wade again.
"Why?" she suddenly exclaimed. "Why are we breaking up?"
The hard part. Wade took a deep breath.
"Cause I'm gay," Wade said through his teeth. He waited, heart pulsing for her response. She stared at him, then started to laugh.
"You had me completely fooled for a moment, there, Wade," she said, laughingly and began to move toward him. He held up a hand to stop her.
"I'm serious, Tiff, I'm gay," he said firmly. "I'm not joking. I'm not messing with your head or anything. Have I ever done that? I'm gay. I've been gay for as long as I can remember. In the ninth grade when we met, I was gay. I... I only started dating you because I knew you wouldn't want to have to sex."
She stared at him incredulously. Her eyes flashed disbelief, then anger. He could suddenly feel the rage roiling inside of her.
"You started dating me because I didn't want to have sex?" she exclaimed angrily. "You didn't care about me?"
"I do care about you," Wade protested. "I care about you a lot. You are one of my best friends, one of the people closest to me. You mean a lot to me."
"Not enough for you to tell me that you're a homosexual," she said and the way she said it made it plain. She hissed the word out like it would infect her, the way a preacher might hiss it from the pulpit.
"No," Wade said quietly. "I was scared to tell you that I'm gay. I was too scared of how you would react."
"What made you so brave now?" she questioned quickly. "Is there a boy hiding somewhere in this story?"
Wade watched her from half-hooded eyes. This was going to be worse than he thought. Her face had malformed into some blotchy red color and her eyes were blue fire. He bit his lip, then forged on. Better to get it over with.
"Yeah, there's a guy," he said hoarsely and she stilled completely.
"Who?"
"Christian Donovan," Wade said automatically and Tiffany started.
"That's sick, Wade," she spat. "Just sick. How dare you do this to me? How dare you touch me when you've had your hands all over another boy? What have you done with him? Are you having sex with him?"
Like she had the cooties. Wade felt venom seeping into his veins.
"Does it matter?" he asked. "I'm not having sex with you."
"But you kiss me," she exclaimed. "You touch me."
Her outrage incensed him. "If you mean do we butt fuck, then no," he said nonchalantly. "Not yet anyway. But we suck each other's dicks all the time."
Her face went white as sheet and Wade felt a short-lived feeling of satisfaction.
"You walk around the school like you're some kind of jock god or something, but all the time you're just a faggot," she yelled. "You're a hell-bound faggot and wait until your father hears about this. What do you think Governor McKinley will say when he finds out his little golden boy is a cocksucker?"
She studied Wade's expression and smiled tremulously.
"Oh, it's easy to break my heart, but you don't want your daddy to know about it, huh?" she threw at him and Wade was across the room and grasping her by her arms in one easy stride. He shook her.
"Do it, Tiffany," he told her. "Tell my dad. It won't matter. I love him, Tiff. I've loved him for as long as I've known how to love and I'll love him forever. I've been through hell admitting to myself that I'm gay, that I love another guy, but I've done it and nothing can change me. This is who I am. If my father hates me and you think I'm sick, that's the way it's gotta be, but I won't turn my back on Chris. I'm sorry that I hurt you, but I'm doing the right thing now. I'm telling you the truth."
There were tears rolling down her cheeks as she looked up at Wade and saw the truth, the sincerity, the emotional strain on his face. She buried her face in his sweatshirt and bawled. Wade held her uncertainly, the anger draining out of him. He listened to her sniveling out her pain against his chest and didn't know what to say, didn't know where to start. He had been thinking about how hard it would be on himself, reveling in the fact that Christian was waiting to help him pick up the pieces when all went wrong, but what about Tiffany? What if she really did love him? Who was she going to turn to when all was said and done?
His thoughts were interrupted by a loud banging at the front door. Wade slowly released Tiffany to walk out of the living room and answer the door.
Jon stood on the other side, looking disheveled and shaking.
"Jon, man, what's up?" Wade asked, concern etching across his handsome face. Jon stepped haltingly inside of the house, completely disoriented. Wade stepped back and let Jon in. Tiffany had followed him and was wiping swiftly at her tearstained cheeks.
"You okay, Jon?" she asked in a slightly strained voice. He looked at her with hollow eyes, then turned around to face Wade.
"Shannon's dead," he said in a strange, empty tone that wade had never heard him use before.
"What?" Wade asked, disbelief on his face. Tiffany walked around Jon to stand next to Wade.
"What do you mean, Jon?" Tiffany asked. "I thought you guys were going to the lake?"
Jon nodded, looked away. He was in another world, another time.
"I was tired because I spent all day throwing passes," he said. "I should have been the one driving. I always drive."
"Jon, buddy, calm down, okay," Wade said. "Just tell me what happened."
"She lost control of the car," Jon said. "We were going to the lake and there was another car that came over into our lane. She just jerked the wheel and totally lost control. She wasn't wearing a seatbelt. She always wears a fucking seatbelt, Wade. I'm the one who doesn't wear a fucking seatbelt, but I'm the one whose alive."
Jon began to cry in earnest, rambling phrases.."through the windshield.... smashed up...Shannon...my fucking life...shit..."
Wade tried to reach for him, but Jon pulled away and when he pulled away Wade saw it, a flash of metal.
"What the fuck is that, Jon," Wade exclaimed, panic surging wildly through him. "What the fuck are you thinking?"
Jon pulled the gun out. Tiffany began to cry.
"I can't do it, man, I can't live without her," Jon said, and his eyes locked with Wade's. Wade read the desolation, the fear and realized that Jon had completely lost it.
"Jon, please, man," Wade started to beg, but Jon put the gun to his temple, effectively halting the words.
"Don't say anything Wade," Jon said, his eyes locked with Wade. "You know how I feel. Out of all the people on the planet, you know how I feel. I love her. I can't live without her. Christian's here. He's alive. Love him while you have the chance." And he pulled the trigger.