In the Closet (boy x boy)

16. Barb's Barbecueless Barbecue

Saturday, April 8th

We stand facing each other, Barb and I. I pretend the proximity with the pool doesn't make me sick in my stomach. She pretends she isn't aware it does. I demand answers from her with my eyes. She doesn't provide any with hers.

"Okay," I say. "What is your problem, Barbara Willow?"

She sulks like she did when she was a kid and her parents refused to give her candy.

"Is this about Tavish?" Fire catches in her eyes, like a blazing match in a bucket of oil. It is about Tavish. I don't understand.

"Of course, it's about Tavish, Billy!"

"But why?" I ask and I'm sorry I did when her face contorts with annoyance.

"You are obsessed! Every since he shoved his tongue into your mouth, he's all you talk about."

I gasp. That's not the way I would have worded it and anyway, it's not true. Not all of it at least.

"Okay, yeah, maybe. But that's because he constantly destabilizes me with everything he does." I look away from her to my surroundings.

The rectangle-shaped pool is filled with turquoise water, only a meter on my right. The noise of its constant churning and stirring rings in my ears. It's disturbing me. Even the pretty pattern of the rock tiles beneath me and Barb's taunting cannot distract me fully. The sun peeps from thin clouds and hides again, over and over.

"We've been through this. It's intentional, he's fucking with you," she tells me like she was there. Like she knew it all. Like she saw the look in Tavish's eyes as he watched me. The gentleness on my skin where he touched me. The way he enrolled me in his club and I punched him. I bet she's be proud about that.

"But he has my phone!" And he just ruined my life, I want to add.

"You rarely ever complain about your phone, you might not notice it but I do."

I roll my eyes. Of course, I notice. I'm not deaf to my own rambling. Not entirely.

"Because, well, there isn't much to say if it's not there," I argue.

"I miss when you were Billy Miller and not one of those dudes Tavish McCloud kisses when he feels like it."

She verbalizes what's been teasing my mind these days. She makes it concrete and inevitably real. It's a bit hurtful when it's crafted into a sentence that way.

"That's not all I am, Barb." There's a weight on my chest when I speak.

"I miss when I was your best friend and not someone to rant about Tavish McCloud to," she says and I couldn't exactly pinpoint why it enrages me.

I find her concern valid but her method idiotic and petty.

So I tell her so. "So you just ignore me and flaunt your new best friends to me? Is that it? Your best response?"

Her face crumbles with insult and offense, her fists tremble besides her mostly uncovered thighs."What am I meant to do! You reduced me to a— a—"

"A what, Barbara?" I urge her on.

"A nothing!" I feel her point of view, try to find a way to explain it's not like that. "Like one of your stupid fish!" she adds and I stiffen.

"You did not!" I yell in disbelief.

"I sure as hell did! What are you gonna do about it? Huh, Ant-Boy?" The jab hurts more than anything. She knows all the mocking was harsh for me. I don't understand how she would dare.