Yeah, Right...
Chapter 11: Lucky
Britney stood impatiently at the doorway, tapping her foot.
“Justin, baby,” She whined, “Why cant y’all come back inside now? I can’t host this damn thing all by myself.”
Justin had stopped running around the basketball court to listen to his girlfriend.
“Brit, I think you're doing a fine job hosting.” He grinned. “Besides, this is more important right now.”
“Asshole.” Britney cursed before spinning on her heel and storming back inside the crowded house.
Justin walked back over to JC. “Whew.” He sighed. “I think she’s already a little tipsy.” Justin shrugged and continued the game they had been playing before Britney had interrupted. Justin dribbled the ball in the direction of the net. But JC blocked him, and quickly stole the basketball. He leapt upwards, instinctively letting the ball fling from his grasp, scoring perfectly.
“Wow.” Justin admired. “I think Kirkpatrick is gonna love you.”
“You think?” JC pressed excitedly.
“Naw, I know.” Justin laughed. He ran his fingers through his curly hair.
“Listen, I better go do some Britney mending. I’ll grab us a few beers and be back in a minute.”
With that JC was left alone on the court, carelessly dribbling. He couldn't help wondering what Lance was doing right now. Probably still reading his Harry Potter book. JC laughed as he pictured Lance shrieking phrases like ‘Oh, No’ and ‘No, way’ as the mystery was unfolded.
Justin spotted Britney mingling with a few of her friends. Her drunken laughter echoing throughout the room. He crept up behind her and wrapped his arms arms around her petite waist, nuzzling her neck, so that his mop of curls tickled her face.
“Justin.” She squealed.
“Yeah, baby.” His voice muffled.
“Are you two finally done out there?” She questioned.
“Yeah, I guess. I just came to get us a couple drinks. Maybe I’ll talk to him a little more about the team.” Justin stood up straight as he spoke.
“He better be really fuckin’ good, since you're spending all you're time with him. Is he?”
“Yeah, he is.” Justin answered.
Britney giggled.
“What?” Justin prodded his girlfriend. Poking her playfully in the stomach.
“I guess I just don't understand how a person who is this basketball superstar can get along so well with Lance Bass.” She snorted and brought her hand up to her mouth to contain her laughter.
“Who the hell is Lance Bass?” Justin looked suspiciously at his girlfriend.
“Ugh.” Britney groaned. “You know, Justin, that blonde senior, who’s in choir, he’s..you know..really gay.”
“You’re kidding. Him?” Justin's mouth hung open.
“JC and his mother are living with him.” Britney explained.
“And he’s really gay?” Justin asked in disbelief.
“About as queer as a football bat, honey.” Britney nearly exploded at her own snide remark.
Justin, however, did not find this as amusing as she did.
“And JC doesn't know?” He probed. Britney shook her head vigorously as a response.
“Well, JC deserves to know he’s living with a fag.” Justin stated.
“So what's ticklin’ ya, big boy?” Beth inquired, twirling in her seat in front of Lance’s iMac. Lance stood in front of her, still wearing his pajama pants and a plain white oversized shirt, his glasses rested on his nose. Ready for a night of Harry Potter. But he hadn't been able to read. Damn JC taking over all my thoughts. He ran his fingers through his soft un-gelled hair.
“OK..” he sighed, “...W ell I was thinking, and-”
“-Hurt much?” Beth quipped in her usual sarcastic tone.
“Beth, this is serious.” He paced the bedroom floor nervously.
“Sorry.” She apologized.
He nodded, in acceptance, then continued talking.
“Well, I was thinking, about, what Joey said.”
“What exactly did Joey say?” Beth asked, all her previous sarcasm now vanished from her tone.
“Well, a week ago when we were at Terra Toys, remember?” Beth nodded. “Well, Joey, pointed out the obvious, as usual, saying that I was flirting with JC. But he also insisted that JC was flirting back.” Beth raised her eyebrows and opened her mouth to speak, but Lance stopped her.
“I...I know this sounds...nuts. And I thought so too. I mean, I practically yelled at Joey in the store. It just seemed so unreal, like he was getting my hopes up for nothing.” Lance continued to ramble barely taking a breath as he spoke. “But, But now that I look back at it. When JC isn't right here in front of me, it just, kinda, makes sense. I think that maybe Joey was right.”
Beth finally cut in.
“Lance, you can’t assume someone's sexuality from one instance of casual, light flirting. Maybe he was just..uh..really happy that day.” She suggested.
“No, Beth, there’s so much more that's happened; between him and me. Some stuff I promised I wouldn't tell anyone. But I think you're wrong. I really do.” Lance replied, recounting all the events that took place over the past couple weeks.
“Here, man.” Justin handed JC a cold Sam Adams, he kept one for himself, then placed two others on a nearby bench.
“Thanks.” JC unscrewed the top and took a large gulp of the beverage.
“To the Austin High Basketball Team, eh?” Justin raised his bottle.
“To the team. And the many victories ahead of us.” JC grinned, and brought his bottle up to clank against Justin's. They both grinned and took sips.
They drank in silence, relishing the bitter taste of the alcohol as it made a stinging path down their throats.
Finally, Justin spoke. “So, what exactly brought you here to Austin?”
“Oh, divorce. I’m with my mom here now. She, uh, is a good friend of Diane Bass, Lance Bass’ mom, and we’re staying with them for a while. At least until my mom can get back on her feet.”
“Lance Bass, huh?” Justin laughed cruelly into his bottle, as he took another long swig.
“Yeah, I don’t get it. You’re like the second person to find that hilarious. Lance has been a great friend to me these past weeks. He’s helped, a lot.” JC defended his friend.
“I’m sure he has.” Justin grimaced.
“What are you talking about?” JC insisted, raising his voice slightly.
“Lance is a fag, man. I’m sorry to be the one to have to tell you.” Justin put his hand on JC’s shoulder, but JC jerked away from the touch.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about...” JC’s voice trailed off. He had trusted him. He had touched him, hugged him-- no held him. Why wouldn't he trust me, too? But what about Beth?
“You’re wrong. Lance has a girlfriend, Beth, or had, he just broke up with her, like, yesterday.”
“Bethany Thompson?” Justin grunted. “She’s his fag-hag or whatever. She has a boyfriend named Collin, if I’m not mistaken.”
JC couldn't speak. Not only had Lance not trusted him; he flat out lied to me. Justin popped open their second beers, handing one to JC.
Lance tried to explain to Beth the gentle touches, and too-warm embraces that lasted a bit too long, the stolen glances, and not-so-stolen stares. How JC had cried and fell asleep in his arms. Or how they tickled each other on the basketball court. Lance stopped rambling enough to look up at Bethany, who still was perched in her chair. A disapproving look melded into her usually light features. Lance was searching her face for any kind of look of understanding or agreement. But found neither.
“He’s been so open and honest with me, Beth. I think it’s time I was the same way with him.”
“I think you're wrong, Lance. I’m sorry, babe, but I do.”
Lance’s shoulders slumped forward.
JC guzzled his second beer. Suddenly craving alcohol. Lance was a liar. He was fake, just like everybody else. Fake like his friends in Maryland and fake like all the goddamned people at the party. JC hadn't said anything in the last couple minutes. He’s just stood there, staring with a sort of scowl on his face. Justin noticed his beer was empty.
“Let me get you another one.” Justin offered and JC didn't refuse. Without another word, Justin disappeared into the house.
“Fuck!” JC growled once he was alone. He picked up the forgotten basketball and threw it against the side of the house fiercely. He had trusted him He had fucking slept in the same bed as him. He had wanted Lance to comfort him, even if it meant holding him. He had needed him. Justin appeared at the door, holding four more beers.
“You, ok, man? We heard a loud ‘bang’ inside.” Justin looked somewhat concerned for his new friend.
“I’m fine.” JC moaned, running a shaking hand threw his brown hair. The spikes Lance had helped him style hours ago, now fell flat. He staggered and sat on the ground. Justin walked over to him, sat down next to him, and handed him the already open beer.
“I know it sucks to find out that a guy that you liked probably had a boner every time he was was around you. But, you’re still cool. Don't let him get to you that much. Hey, and if he ever tries any crazy shit, just beat the crap outta him.” Justin chuckled, but his tone remained ambiguous; JC could tell he wasn't really joking.
“Lance, I really think that you are having incredibly strong feelings for him, and are just reading your love, in what is his innocent friendship. He needs a friend right now, Lance. And you’ve obviously done a marvelous job at fulfilling that. But, that's all he wants. A friend. Not a lover.”
“I..I don't believe that.” Lance spoke softly.
“Because you don't want to.” Beth retorted, “He had a girlfriend, Lance, for three years, remember?”
“Yeah, I do,” Lance pushed his glassed up his nose, “But, I also remember when he broke up with her, because she wasn’t what he wanted anymore, wasn't what he wanted maybe ever. He said he wanted something else, something new.”
“Let me guess, ‘something like you’”. Beth snapped.
“Maybe...” Lance sighed.
“Maybe, she wasn’t his type, Lance. Maybe he wants someone who isn't fake, and has more important things to talk about than a sale at Express. I think that's what he meant.”
“No!” Lance raised his voice to an almost yell. “You don’t know him like I do. You don't know what you're talking about.”
“Then, why the hell am I here?” She growled back.
“Because I thought you would help. But you've just been a close-minded bitch.” They both fell silent.
JC and Justin reentered the house, the crowd had died down slightly since earlier, but teenagers still inhabited every hallway and room, most drunk, making noise, some drunk and making-out. JC felt two thin arms creep around his stomach and snake up his chest. He wanted to throw-up. Hannah’s once bubbly voice, now was slowed and slurred as she whispered into his ear.
“Hey, baby, you were out there for a while. I missed you.”
JC leaned into her embrace. Forcing himself to enjoy the intimacy. Even if it meant pretending. Wasn't that what everyone did anyway? Lie. Act. Put on a show. JC spun around quickly and planted a drunken, wet kiss on Hannah’s pouty lips. He could've been kissing Bobbie and he wouldn't have known the difference. It was all the same. The lies were all the same. But it was what everyone wanted and what everyone did. Even Lance. He was dumb when he tried to be himself. That wasn't how the world worked. He knew that now.
Pretend to have enjoyed that. JC reminded himself as he pulled away from Hannah, took her hand and led her to the nearby couch.
He passed Justin on his way. Justin patted him approvingly on the shoulder.
“See you didn't let that fag get to you.” Justin chuckled and winked at Hannah.
No I didn't. JC confirmed in his mind. He was pretending.
“Lance..” Beth finally spoke, obviously trying to contain her voice from rising, “ Its obvious that you don't want my help. So I am going to leave now. But before I do, I just want to tell you that everything I said tonight I said out of love for you. I don't want to see you get hurt, Lance. I feel that telling JC that you're gay will only put a wall between you two and ruin an already fragile friendship.”
“Thank you for your concern.” Lance sat on his bed, staring at his bare feet, sarcasm dripping from his tone.
Beth bit her tongue, and walked towards the door. She opened it, but before exiting turned back around to face Lance.
“Just make the right decision.” She added quickly before sighing and leaving.
Lance looked up from a freckle he had been studying on his big toe to see the door slam behind his best friend. I already have.
The party finally started to wind down at about 1:40 a.m. JC sat in the couch with Hannah, now completely drunk. Hannah sat next to him, giggly with her few still remaining friends and occasionally caressing JC’s chest or nibbling on his ear.
“Okay,” Britney spoke up from her spot on Justin's lap, “I think” -she hiccuped- “its time for everyone to get the hell out. I have to clean before my parents get home. Ewww, and get some sleep.” She moaned, rubbing her temples.
“I’ll take y’all home.” A still sober brunette offered to Hannah and JC from behind the couch.
“Great.” JC stood up too quickly and lost his balance, he leaned on a small coffee table, knocking over an empty beer bottle in the process.
“Shit.” JC swore, bending over clumsily to try and pick up his mess. Justin rushed over to him, grabbing his arm and helping him up.
“Don't worry about it, man.” Justin reassured JC. “Its definitely time for you to go home.” Justin groaned as JC put more of his weight onto him. Their designated driver walked ahead of them, opening the door for the two, Hannah followed closely behind. They staggered out to her car and Justin helped to heave JC into the front seat.
“I’ll call you tomorrow, man, after I talk to Coach Kirkpatrick.” Justin informed him and closed the car door. JC grunted and nodded while Hannah slipped into the back seat and the car took off.
Lance couldn't sleep, again. He tried. He laid down in his bed, tossing and turning, not being able to erase a picture of JC from his mind. Occasionally the picture would fade into a disgruntled portrait of Bethany. He didn't know how things had turned out so horribly. Bethany’s words still echoed in his mind. Maybe she’s right. Maybe I will kill an already fragile friendship. Maybe I should wait till I know he’ll accept me no matter what I tell him. But he didn't want JC to find out the wrong way, and sooner or later that was going to happen, especially since they were going to back to school on Monday. Probably sooner than later. Lance threw his covers off of himself in aggravation. He glanced at his clock: 2 a.m. I wonder when JC was planning on coming home. He thought, as he threw his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. He instinctively walked over to his piano. He always played when he needed to think or clear his mind of what he was thinking about. Now was definitely one of those times. He sat down, the old wooden bench creaked under his weight. He pressed his foot down on the damper peddle, aware that his parents and Karen were asleep not too far away. He plucked gently at the keys. The introduction to My Funny Valentine began to form, as his fingers fell to the soothing minor chords. Lance found his starting pitch and began to sing along, his voice tenderly filling the darkened room.
Lance was too enraptured by his music to notice the soft rumble of a car pulling into the driveway, or hear the front door gently click closed, nor did he hear the familiar creaking of his bedroom door opening and closing. It wasn't until JC’s shadowy form leaned against the wall next to the piano did he know that he had come home. But Lance didn’t stop. JC stood quietly, listening as Lance completed the last few chords, ending on a clear E flat. JC brought his clammy fingers up to Lance smooth neck and began to caress the silk-like hairs and touched there. Lance shivered. He needed to tell him Tonight. It wasn’t until the room was completely silent, the last note long finished echoing, that Lance spoke.
“God, JC,” He chuckled uneasily, “What did you do? Take a bath in a keg...” JC didn't respond. Instead he leaned slowly closer to Lance, his fingers placed seductively on his neck.
“You like this don't you?” His raspy voice a whisper in Lance’s ear. The distinct smell of alcohol from JC’s breath stung Lance’s nose.
“Like..what?” Lance questioned cautiously.
“Me...touching you.” JC was so close now his husky voice tickled Lance’s neck, sending chill-bumps down his spine.
“Wha-What are you talking about?” Lance spat, spinning around on the bench, causing JC’s hand to fall from his neck. Lance could make out JC’s bloodshot eyes, and flushed face in the dim room. Shit, he knows. Shit. Fuck. Shit. Lance cringed.
JC laughed and backed away from the piano.
“Don’t act like you don't know what I’m talking about, Lance.” JC glared incredulously at Lance.
“Justin told me, Lance, he told me everything.”
Lance stood up from the bench, twisting his fingers together and biting his lip as he made his way over to the opposite wall as JC.
He tried to to remain calm as he spoke.
“JC, I was going to tell you tonight. I swear. But, I was nervous, I guess, about how you would take it. I didn't want to lose our friendship.”
“Oh, so what? You lied to me. That wasn’t a friendship, Lance. I trusted you. I confided in you. I let you touch me. All for what? So you could pop a boner without me knowing about it.” JC lashed.
“No. JC, god, that's not it--”
“You're a fake, Lance, like everyone else. You settle on not being your real self just to please the world, and be what people want you to.”
“Jayce--” Lance began.
“Don’t call me that dumb name.” JC hissed. JC stumbled over to Lance, using Lance’s bed to balance himself, as he made his way to the opposite side of the room.
“I’m sorry, JC. I’m sorry. I lied, and I’m sorry.” Lance pleaded, tears threatening to sting his eyes.
“Why are you sorry, Lance. Are you sorry for being a phony, a fake, just like, Bobbie, just like Hannah, just like me.” JC’s face was now only inches away from Lance’s, his hot, drunken breath sweeping over Lance. “..Or are sorry because now this isn't going to happen.” Before Lance could speak JC pressed his lips tightly against Lance’s. He grasped Lance’s body, running his hands up Lance’s arms, and neck until he reached his soft blonde hair. JC was only doing this to be a tease, to be an asshole, to teach the poor fag a lesson, Lance told himself. Beth had been right. Now everything was ruined. Lance brought his hands up to JC’s chest and forced himself to push him away.
“You fucker!” Lance thundered, JC fell backwards with the force of Lance’s shove, falling onto the floor.
Diane Bass, Karen Chasez, and Jim Bass all came storming into the room, having been woken up by their yelling.
“What did you just say, James Lance Bass?” Jim hollered.
“I cannot believe what you just said to our guest.” Diane added in the same appalled tone.
Karen however was paying attention to her son who lay on the floor. “Joshua, are you drunk?”
“Yes, mother.” JC’s muffled voice came from the carpet.
“I am incredibly ashamed of both of you.” Diane stated, anger flaring in her eyes, before she huffed and stormed out of the room.
“We’ll talk about your punishment in the morning. Go to bed, now, both of you. Not another word.” Jim commanded, before following his wife upstairs.
“How dare you get drunk and show up to the kind Bass’ home this way. I am incredibly humiliated by you right now, Joshua. I just don't know what to say.” Karen shook her head and exited. They were alone again. Lance grabbed a pillow and comforter off of his bed.
“You stay here. I’m sleeping on the couch.” Lance stormed out of the room.
It wasn't until JC was alone did he climb up into the bottom bunk, curled into a ball, and let the tears that had been threatening to fall all night finally run down his cheeks, working his way into a sob that shook his entire body, before pure exhaustion took over, and he fell asleep, his head resting against a wet pillow, remembering the last time he had cried and how comforting it had felt to have Lance so close.