Zac
I have, due to my well known talent for sticking my foot in my mouth, experienced a lot of awkward silences in my life. This was by far the most awkward. Carrick had vanished in all but a literal puff of smoke, leaving me all alone with Taylor, who could have probably managed to put two and two together even without Carrick’s quip.
It wasn’t that I minded being outed to Taylor. Out of everyone in our family and social circle, he was by far the least likely to judge me. That wasn’t what had stopped me in my tracks. Neither was it really the fact that I hadn’t had a say in the matter–although I did plan to point that out to Carrick later.
So what was it, exactly, that left me shaking and stuttering, while Taylor just stared, his eyebrows growing increasingly higher on his forehead until he looked like nothing so much as a cartoon character?
I really couldn’t say. In fact, I couldn’t say anything.
When I finally managed to pull myself together enough to regain the power of speech, I could still do little more than point an accusatory finger at Taylor and blurt out, “Not a word.”
I stormed off before either of us could figure out what I meant by that.
Somewhat to my relief, the concert started too soon after that for me to confront–or be confronted by–either Carrick or Taylor. That didn’t stop me from being distracted throughout the entire show, of course. I had no clue what to say to either of them. I couldn’t articulate why I was upset with Carrick, nor could I understand why I felt the need to explain anything at all to Taylor.
Still, the awkward feelings lingered, even after the show ended and Carrick was the first one by the side of the stage to assure me it had been a great concert. I knew that was a lie; I had been too lost in my thoughts to give it my best, but I appreciated the sentiment anyway.
After a quick shower, I made my way out to the garage where the bus was parked. I wasn’t surprised to see a crowd of fans circling around Carrick. The way he stood out from the crowd, being practically a head taller than most of them, was pretty laughable. That, and the way he so effortlessly seemed to charm every single one of them, went a long way towards softening my own feelings toward him.
I signed a few quick autographs, but didn’t take time for very much small talk. It was easy enough, in spite of what had happened earlier, to feed off Carrick’s banter. The two of us made a good team, as I was sure more than a few fans had noticed. With that thought in mind, I began subtly nudging him toward the bus until he finally took the hint and said goodbye to his adoring public.
“They totally know,” I mumbled as soon as we were out of earshot.
“Probably,” Carrick replied, his hand coming to rest almost automatically on my lower back as he climbed onto the bus right behind me. The fans might not have been able to see that little movement, but it still made my back stiffen a bit.
It didn’t help at all that Taylor was right there, sitting at the bus table. He eyed us over the top of his laptop, but didn’t say a word.
I headed straight for the refrigerator, grabbing a Mountain Dew. Maybe if I just ignored Taylor entirely, he would go away. Unlikely, but it was my only hope. I held up a Dr. Pepper to Carrick, and he nodded.
He draped himself casually across the couch, and smiled up at me. I handed him his Dr. Pepper and sat down next to him with my own drink. I gave him a look that I hoped conveyed that I really wanted to be anywhere but right where I was, but Carrick seemed oblivious to it.
Seeing that I had no choice but to play nice and pretend nothing had happened earlier, I turned my attention to my brother. “Whatcha doing, Tay?”
“Just about to check our Twitter,” he replied.
Carrick stifled a laugh, and I glanced at him. He just gave me a nudge and a smirk.
“You don’t think…” I said under my breath, but couldn’t bring myself to finish the sentence.
“Oh, cool,” Taylor said, seemingly oblivious. “Some people posted pics already.”
“That’s… that’s good,” I managed to squeak out.
Taylor’s eyes were trained on the laptop screen. He clicked once, twice, three times, his eyes growing wider with each click. I could only imagine what sort of pictures he had found, although I reasoned that if they were that bad word would have somehow reached my wife by now. Still, Taylor’s reaction wasn’t exactly reassuring, especially when he leaned in closer and tilted his head to the side as though he wasn’t at all sure what he was seeing.
I glanced back at Carrick, and was dismayed to find him clearly on the verge of bursting out laughing.
“I hate you so much,” I hissed.
“No you don’t,” he whispered back.
He was right, of course. That was the problem. In spite of the major line he had crossed earlier, I really couldn’t even stay angry with him.
Finally, Taylor pried his eyes away from the screen, turning his head slowly to stare at us.
I gulped. “Any good pics?”
Carrick let out a loud guffaw at that, his hand not clamping down on his mouth quickly enough to silence it.
“Okay,” Taylor said, clearing his throat. “So they got a few… interesting… photos. No big deal. They’ve gotten worse ones of us before.”
Carrick snorted, and I shoved an elbow into his side.
Taylor glanced back and forth between the two of us, his lips just barely beginning to turn up in a smirk. “Anything you feel like telling me?”
“If I said I was kidding before, would you believe me?” Carrick ran a hand through his hair, looking surprisingly sheepish–an emotion I hadn’t even been sure he was capable of.
“I’m not that blonde,” Taylor replied. Something on his computer screen distracted him, and he leaned in to analyze it again. A moment later, he glanced up at us again. “You didn’t.”
I stared back, hoping my expression looked at least a little bit more innocent than Carrick’s.
Tay turned his computer screen to face us, the tweet in question displayed in large enough print that it was hardly even necessary for him to read it. “Saw Zarrick outside before the show, they disappeared around a corner and we heard… noises…”
“Our fans are twisted,” I remarked. “Who the fuck would even tweet that?”
“You didn’t,” Taylor repeated. “Tell me you didn’t.”
“We didn’t,” I parroted. Technically we really hadn’t done anything as bad as that tweet seemed to imply. I doubted telling Tay that would help my case any, though.
Carrick rolled his eyes. “We thought it’d be fun to mess with them some.”
Taylor and I both eyed him closely.
“What? It was funny!” Carrick remarked. “Go around the corner, make a few noises… they immediately assume we’re doing it.”
Taylor looked at me, presumably for confirmation that Carrick was telling the truth. I nodded. What else could I do?
“I–I mean,” I stuttered out, “some of those girls think we’re fucking. Overactive imagination central.”
“Yeah…” Taylor replied, drawing the word out as though he were still deciding whether or not he believed a word we were saying. Finally, the tension left his shoulders and he began to grin again. “Except that this time, they happen to be right. Even if they don’t know it. Okay, that is pretty funny.”
I laughed nervously, not really finding it quite as funny as Taylor had. I supposed that laughter was the only way he could deal with suddenly learning that I was bisexual and sleeping with the opening act. It wasn’t the coming out I would have chosen, that’s for sure. But at least the absurdity of it broke the ice.
“I mean, it’s not like you’re reckless enough to actually have sex a few feet away from our fans.” Taylor gave us a pointed stare. “Right?”
“Right…” I replied. It was, technically speaking, true. I didn’t feel like getting into the reasons why we hadn’t gone all the way, though.
Had it even occurred to Taylor to question the fact that I was cheating on my wife, his wife’s best friend? We didn’t have the sort of arrangement he and Natalie had; surely he knew that. If he questioned that, how I could justify cheating on Kate, it would only be a matter of minutes before Carrick realized I hadn’t been entirely honest with him.
But I truly didn’t see any judgment in Taylor’s eyes. He realized, I supposed, that he was in no position to judge me, given everything–and everyone–he had done.
“So, uh,” I said. “I’m not sure I really wanna know, but did they say anything else about us? I mean, about… me and Carrick?”
“Umm, not really, no,” Taylor replied. “Just a few of them made those sort of comments. Then just some others saying they saw you guys. A small handful debating who makes a cuter couple, you two or… us.”
“See?” I said, shooting a quick glare at Carrick to silence his snickers. “Our fans are fucking sick. Who would tweet that kind of thing to us?”
“Oh, they didn’t tag us in those,” Taylor replied. “I just follow a few of them.”
I stared at him. “What?”
“What?” Taylor repeated, giving me a blank look. “You’ve never wondered what they say when they think we aren’t looking?”
Carrick grinned. “Oh, I’ve got a pretty good idea.”
“It’s pretty interesting, really,” Taylor replied with a casual shrug, as though he hadn’t just admitted to keeping a private Twitter account for the sole purpose of spying on our fans. Just how much had I underestimated my dear, dumb blonde brother?
“That’s one word for it,” I finally managed to squeak out.
“Yeah, I love reading all their theories and explanations,” Carrick said. “Some of them have some pretty well-thought out arguments for why they ship whoever they ship.”
Taylor nodded in agreement, and I just stared back and forth between the two of them. Had I fallen into the twilight zone, or was I actually sitting here discussing shipping with my brother and my boyfriend?
“You’re both fucking nuts. It’s official.”
“Really?” Carrick asked, his head snapping around to stare at me.
“Umm,” I sputtered, hoping Carrick wasn’t going to spill all of the beans. Hadn’t he told Taylor enough for one night?
“You honestly think you’re one to talk?”
“No?”
“Uh huh,” Carrick replied. “That’s what I thought. You’re no more innocent than me, you know.”
Taylor pushed his laptop aside and leaned back in his seat. “So my little brother has some skeletons, huh?”
“You can say that again,” Carrick said, a massive smirk threatening to split his face in half.
“I hate you both.”
Taylor pouted, but Carrick just threw a long arm around me. “Nah, you love us. Both of us.”
“So…” Taylor looked back and forth between us with a knowing smile. “Like I said. Anything you want to tell me?”
I looked at Carrick, but he just shrugged. Of course he wasn’t going to be any help, but then, considering the balancing act I was struggling to manage, maybe that was for the best.
I cleared my throat and turned back to Tay. “We, um… we’re kinda… dating.”
Tay’s brow furrowed, and I could see a million questions forming in his mind. I started to panic, and gave what I hoped was a subtle head shake, then glanced at Carrick. He was smiling at me with so much love and pride that I felt like absolute shit.
“Hey babe, I’m gonna go get the xBox turned on,” Carrick said. “See you in a bit.” He gave me a peck on the cheek, then turned and headed back to the lounge.
“See you,” I replied weakly, hardly even able to manage to smile up at him. I turned back to Taylor, bracing myself for the interrogation I was sure had to be coming.
“How long have you known?” He asked, his tone almost sympathetic.
“Known?” I echoed, not sure at first what he meant, or why he wasn’t hurling accusations at me. Not that I wanted him to do that, but they wouldn’t have been false. Finally, his meaning dawned on me. “Umm… I mean, it was only a theory until recently. But, a few years, I guess.”
Tay nodded slowly, chewing his lip. He stood up, then took Carrick’s spot next to me on the couch. “It’s okay. You know I’m the last person who’s going to judge you. But I have to ask… does Kate know?”
“Does Kate–I mean, she’s not exactly the easiest person to talk to about sexual stuff, you know?” It was hardly an answer at all, but we were treading on thin ice here.
“I’ll take that as a no.” He took a deep breath, glancing toward the back lounge, where our conversation hopefully couldn’t be heard. “And Carrick is okay with this? With being the side-guy? I mean, you said you were ‘dating’, but…”
“But what? Yeah, we’re dating, and yeah, I know it’s not that simple. It’s really fucking complicated, actually, but I’m… I’m trying to sort it all out. And Carrick knows that. I think he’s a big enough boy to take care of himself, Tay.” I tried to keep my tone even and level; I knew Tay meant well. But meaning well didn’t mean that he wouldn’t say or do something that jeopardized everything for me.
“Okay, okay. I just don’t want to see you get hurt, is all.” He looked me over, looking almost shy for a second. “You deserve to be happy. I’m glad you’ve found people who are cool with letting you have what you need.”
“Like I said, I’m trying to sort it all out,” I repeated, trying to ignore the growing pit in my stomach. “This is all pretty new territory for me, you know. But I am–I mean, Carrick does make me happy. He really does.”
His eyebrow raised just a fraction at that, but Ike chose that moment to come barreling through the door, half our crew on his heels.
“Well, I’ll let you get back to your… game,” he said with a smirk. He stood up to speak to Ike, and I beat a hasty retreat to the lounge.
I knew I had just dodged a massive bullet. I knew it would come for me again, too. I didn’t know how long I could continue to dodge it before I finally lost the battle. When I stepped into the lounge and saw Carrick sitting there with an xBox controller in one hand and a bowl in the other, my stomach dropped again. But when he smiled up at me, seemingly oblivious to my inner turmoil, I all but forgot my worries.