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March 5, 2008

Maybe I Am

"It's my birthday tomorrow," Tommy reminded his friends as they sat together during lunch on a cold February day. He had interrupted Richard Blume who had been lecturing them on the merits of postmodern composition in modern day music.

"We know," Liam, who had become another permanent installation in their group, spoke up. "You've been reminding us all month."

"I was talking," Richard said angrily. "Do you always interrupt when having a conversation?"

"Richey," Tommy replied. "Two people have to be involved for it to be a conversation, and I'm not ashamed to admit I have no idea what the fuck you are talking about. It's way over my head and I'll save it for university. I suppose they expect you to be a genius in boarding school?"

Richard stabbed at the steamed vegetables he had purchased with a plastic knife. He grit his teeth as unchecked ire rose within him.

"I'd prefer it if you didn't make mention of boarding school," he spat. "And while we're at it, nobody cares about your bloody birthday, either."

"I care," Tommy replied as he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.

"Good for you," Richard glared daggers across the table.

"Maybe I should uninvite you to my party," Tommy suggested though he had no intention of doing so.

"I don't want to go," Richard convincingly replied. "Didn't I just say I don't care?"

Nigel and Liam shared a perplexed glance as they were left out of Tommy and Richard's anger fueled repartee. They were both staring at one another at that point. Tommy was biting his lower lip in an effort to keep from showing that his feelings had been hurt and Richard was stabbing ferociously at his tray, his vegetables having been reduced to mush.

"You know what," Richard finally broke the silence. "If you don't want to listen me, then I'm just going to eat somewhere else." He stood up and traveled to an empty table across the room.

"He is fucked up," Liam announced once Richard was out of earshot. "Why do you fella's even hang out with him? I mean, he's Nigel's cousin, but that ain't no good reason is it?"

"I don't know," Nigel admitted then glanced at Tommy who was glowering at them.

"I can't believe you two," he said as he stood up. "People need friends."

"But," Nigel said. "You were just arguing with him."

"And uninviting him to your party," Liam contributed.

Tommy dismissed them with a wave of his hand completely unimpressed with their assessment.

"At least I'm not talking about him behind his back."

Tommy walked away from them and joined Richard across from where he sat staring blankly at his meal, poking it with his utensil at regular intervals.

"I'm sorry I wasn't listening to your little speech," Tommy said. "And I really, really want you to come to my party, and I'm sorry I said I didn't want you there."

"Bloody fuck," Richard dropped his knife to look up at his companion. "Why are you always there?"

"Huh," Tommy frowned at him.

"You're always, always there," Richard said. "Every time I turn around you're there. You're always inviting me to go to this and that. Why? I don't want to come see you play football, I don't want to come to band practice every night. I don't want to go to our classmates boring little parties. I don't need, nor do I want to go on every little outing with you and Nigel. I don't get it. I'm not fun, I'm certainly not pleasant to be around. I know it, so what the fuck is your excuse?"

"Why do you think that," Tommy chided. "You're perfectly pleasant, and most of the time you're even interesting."

Richard snorted disbelief before addressing Tommy. "You know, if I were you, Tom, I would just stop trying to be friends with me. I've tried, but I'm just unbearable. Just, stop it and run far, far away while you can. I'm trouble and I'm not worth it."

"You're coming to my party," Tommy decided. "I won't take no for an answer."

"And most of all I do not want to attend your fucking birthday party!" Richard exasperatedly replied.

"What have you got against birthdays," Tommy asked meekly.

"What have I?" Richard stared at him. "Do you want to know when my birthday is?"

"When."

"Yesterday," came Richard's short, derisive reply. "And you know what, when nobody likes you, Not even your parents, you don't get birthday parties. "

"Oh, please," Tommy scoffed. "That cannot possibly be true."

"Think what you want if it makes you feel better," Richard shrugged.

"Your parents really did forget?" Tommy frowned. "That's horrible."

"They didn't forget," Richard growled. "This is the first year I've been in London since I was five years old, Tom. I grew up in a fucking dormitory, I had no friends, and my parents wish I was never born. If I hadn't cut myself I'd still be there right now. They didn't forget, they just don't care!"

Richard left then and Tommy watched him depart, feeling a bit sad and stunned.

"Alright?" Nigel asked as he crossed Tommy's line of vision and sat down.

Tommy turned his gaze towards his best friend and shrugged, no longer trying to hide his disappointment.

"Don't let him worry you," Nigel cheerily replied as he patted Tommy's shoulder.

"He's been in boarding school since he was five," Tommy asked instead. "I didn't think they could ship you off that early."

"My aunt does what she wants," Nigel replied. "She probably donated a lot of money to the school."

"Oh, god, really," Tommy frowned. "That's horrible."

"It is," Nigel nodded his head in agreement. "My father tries to keep me out of my aunt's 'sphere of influence.' He doesn't want me to feel entitled or something."

"That's horrible, Nige," Tommy said. "I don't understand it. How could they just ship him away like they don't want him?"

"What are you on about," Nigel replied, having not been privy to the conversation.

Tommy glanced sharply at him. "Maybe you shouldn't be so hard on Richey, you and Liam."

"Yeah," Nigel sighed. "I know. You're right. It's just odd. It used to be just you and me, now it's you and me and Richey, and sometimes Liam. I'm not used to it."

"Me either," Tommy admitted. "but things aren't going to be the same forever."

Tommy stared listlessly over Nigel's shoulder in the direction that Richard had disappeared. Nigel followed his line of vision for a moment, then turned back to face his friend, and he realized that despite not knowing how, or why, things had already changed.

--

Tommy trotted up to his mother later that day as she stood in her small kitchen holding a piping tube in one hand and looking vexed upon a lopsided cake. Her auburn hair was tied back in a pony tail and she was covered in flour and icing.

"You remembered to put sugar in it this time, right, Mum," he patted her sympathetically on the shoulder.

"Yes, I did, Darling," she informed him. "Don't patronize your mother."

"I'm sorry," he laughed and kissed her on the cheek. "I always appreciate the trying."

"Oh, you," she smiled at him.

"My friend's birthday was yesterday," Tommy prefaced the request he was about to make.

"Really? Who is that?" she asked.

"Nigel's cousin, Richey," He dipped a finger into the icing bowl for a taste.

"Don't believe I know him," she lay her tube down and turned to look at her son. "Now, how come I've never heard of him before? You hidin' something?"

"Hiding what?" Tommy opened his eyes wide in hopes of seeming innocent. "He just moved to town. Two days older than me apparently. Nothing sinister of note as far as I know."

"And I've never heard of him, because..."

He shrugged and took another scoop of icing. "Well, I dunno, Mum. He's only been around for a few months."

"It's just not like you," she decided as she brushed back a lock of his hair.

"Maybe I haven't decided if I like him or not," Tommy said.

"Oh, I see," She stroked his hair and sighed. Being a single mother she was quick becoming petrified of her boy's ascent into adolescence. She didn't want him falling into the wrong crowd or making the mistakes that she had.

"So, nobody knew it was his birthday, and I was wonderin', when you're done with this and you go out to buy me a cake, could you have his name on it? I don't mind sharin' and I thought it'd be nice."

"Are you sure?" She asked. "It's your birthday."

"That's right, it is," he replied with a sparkle in his eye. "And this is what I want"

--

Richard Michael Blume lay curled up amidst the tangle of blankets upon his bed. He was peering out from beneath them at the door to his bedroom. The loud rapping emanating from behind the barrier had wakened him from a troubled sleep. He grumbled at the intruder to enter, for the door was unlocked, and when it swung opened it revealed the Blume family servant, Saul.

"What do you want," Richard frowned from where he lay, not bothering to even sit up.

"You've been asleep all day," Saul said as he entered the room. "Are you feeling alright."

"No," Richard admitted, though he hadn't an idea why. There was nothing that physically ailed him, and yet he found himself unable to wrest himself from the bed.

"Your friend stopped by."

"Tommy's birthday," the boy said with the disappointed realization that he'd missed the get together. He moaned and pulled his comforter over his head.

"I can't believe how useless I am." Saul could hear the muffled voice of his employers son from beneath the covers.

"Come now," Saul sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled the covers down. "We have cake."

"What?" Richard peered at the family's servant through a haze of incomprehension.

"Tommy, Sir. He brought you a slice of cake."

Richard finally noted the cake resting on Saul's lap. He regarded the baked good dumbly for a moment before sitting up with a stricken look upon his face.

"Oh, fuck, what is wrong with him," Richard said despairingly, and not at all mindful of his language in front of the adult.

"I didn't know it was your birthday," Saul noted the text upon the cake where Richard's name was prominently displayed in icing.

"Give it to me," Richard gestured towards the plate and Saul handed it over.

"That will be all," Richard dismissed him with a wave of his hand as he studied the unexpected dessert.

Saul stood up, pulled an envelope from his pocket and handed it over.

"There's a card." he said shortly before departing.

Richard waited to be alone before perching the plate on his knee and ripping open the card.

"Please don't be angry," a Birthday Card addressed to Richard read. ", But everybody deserves a Cake with their name on it once a year. P.S. Now that We're thirteen, do I get to have a real band?"

Richard folded the card and placed it gently back in the envelope before he placed it on his nightstand, with the plate of cake on top of it. He frowned slightly. Unable to process the gesture Tommy had made he lay back down and pulled the blankets up to his chin and stared blankly at the ceiling.

--

Tommy hadn't made any indication of what had transpired a week and a half later when Richard returned to school, and nobody had even ventured to ask him why he had been gone for such a long time. The longer the day went on with glances of pity from the instructors and classmates, the more irritated he became. It all came to a head after classes had let out. They stood in order of height, Nigel, Richard, Liam and Tommy, waiting for Nigel's mother to pick them up. Nobody was saying a word and whether or not it was on Richard accord didn't matter. He felt as if it were and he'd had enough.

"Can I talk to you," Richard said, loudly, pointedly and to nobody in particular.

Tommy glanced down the row and pointed at himself.

"Me?" he asked as Nigel and Liam's response was to expectantly turn towards the short end of the line.

"Yeah, you," Richard confirmed. He grabbed a befuddled Tommy by the arm and dragged him away, informing the other two that he would have Saul pick them up.

"I get it," Tommy grumbled as soon as they'd found an isolated area behind the school building. "You don't want to be around me all the time. You've made it abundantly clear. Maybe you just don't like me and that's alright."

"I do like you," Richard said exasperatedly. "I wanted to be there. I don't want to hurt your feelings when you're so fucking nice to me. And you see what I do. I don't come to your party and you still send me my own cake..."

"Richard," Tommy said quietly, barely disguising his disappointment. "I didn't think you weren't going to come anyway. You said you wouldn't, didn't you?"

"Then why..."

"You said it yourself," Tommy shrugged. "I'm nice. I'm a Pisces, I can't help it."

Richard grumbled and crossed his arms. "You know, I don't even like Chocolate cake," he said.

Tommy took the comment with a grain of salt and smiled at Richard instead.

"You're funny," he replied with a laugh and began to walk back towards the street.

"What are you doing," Richard trotted to keep up with his companion. "Why are you walking away from me?"

"Nobody walks away from a Blume," Tommy playfully mocked his upper class accent as he backpedaled in order to gauge Richard's reaction.

"Don't you want to know where I was," Richard stopped and scowled. "Nobody's asked me where I've been."

Tommy chewed on his bottom lip a bit as he pondered how to respond to Richard's not so veiled attempt at seeking some attention.

"Okay," Tommy finally said. "You want to know why nobody's asked you?"

Richard nodded.

"They're afraid of what you're going to say. Everybody knows what you did, Richey, even if they don't say so and nobody wants to think about it. It scares people, what you've done to yourself. Don't you think it's better that they ignore you rather than tormenting you about it?"

Richard stood there his bottom lip trembling as he tried to stem the tears that welled in his eyes.

"Oh, No. Maybe not," Tommy dropped the playful facade, threw an arm around Richard as he started to weep and led him back to the secluded area from where they'd emerged.

"Why didn't I just die, Tom," he sobbed.

Tommy bit back any platitudes that threatened to depart from his lips and pulled Richard into a hug without saying anything. They stood there for a long time before Richard broke the embrace.

"Do you want to talk about it," Tommy finally asked.

Richard knew the question well as he was asked often, and he had a ready-made response for it. But as Tommy stood there looking at him with an expression of genuine concern he couldn't blurt out that he didn't want to talk about it. Nobody before had ever shown the slightest interest in anything he said or felt.

"You know they've been making me see a psychiatrist," Richard finally mumbled through sniffles.

Tommy just nodded, encouraging his friend to continue.

"I'm sick, Tom. Back in boarding school they said I had ADHD, but I don't. The pills just made it worse, I told them how bad it was, but they didn't believe me. This new doctor, he says I'm Bipolar. Now I have more different pills to take," Richard crossed his arms and frowned. "Fucking doctors can't tell their arse from their elbow. The short of it is, I'm basically insane, and I'm never gonna get better, ever."

"You're not insane," Tommy replied quietly and Richard just laughed condescendingly at him.

"Don't tell me what I'm not," he said. "And don't feel sorry for me either, I didn't tell you to feel sorry for me."

"Do I look like I feel sorry for you, Blume," Tommy glanced up at him with a frown.

"Obviously you do," Richard took a step back so he could regard his companion. "Or you wouldn't have sent me cake."

"You're an idiot," Tommy spat at him. "I know you've never had a 'birthday', but you must be aware that it is customary for gifts to be involved. No pity required."

Richard grumbled after him as Tommy began to walk away again. He still didn't quite believe that Tommy was without ulterior motives and Richard was well aware of how much people pitied him. He could see it when they refused to meet his eyes during conversation. He could tell by their apologies after jerking away from a handshake once they caught sight of the bright red scars on his wrists. He could tell by the way everyone acquiesced to his wishes as if the slightest affront would send him into a suicidal depression.

"Where are you going," Richard asked after Tommy as the boy exited the courtyard and started walking down the street.

"Tube Station," Tommy said.

Richard stopped in his tracks and stared.

"What now," Tommy turned around impatiently as soon as he sensed Richard was not following him. "Why are you staring at me like that."

"I'll ring Saul. He can drive us."

"You," Tommy shook his head. "You are something. How you gonna get around when there ain't no Saul?"

Richard refused to respond.

"You are so posh," Tommy asserted with a wry smile.

He turned away and kicked at the gravel on the sidewalk as he went. Richard begrudgingly shuffled after him.

--

"So what are you doin' when school lets out," Liam arrived more bubbly than usual at the table one afternoon at the Academie sometime in June. He pulled opened his sack lunch and exhumed a tuna sandwich.

"Rehearsing," Tommy said pointedly in Liam's direction. "We aren't getting a holiday from that if that's what you're wondering."

Liam frowned, returning to his usual disgruntled self.

"We do that too much as it is," he whined.

"Practice makes perfect," Richard spoke up from where he had been sitting silently. He had fallen into a quiet lull in the months since his birthday. It was a welcome respite from his usual biting commentary.

"but in your case, Liam," he continued as a malicious grin crept over his face, "That might not be possible."

"Wanker," Liam snarled back before Richard even finished the sentence.

"Well, I wold love to spend an entire summer bored watching you play 'music,'" Richard addressed the initial question, finger quoting the word Music as he did so.

"I'd think it's better than whatever the fuck you did before your parents cursed us with your presence," Tommy said.

"Probably," Richard agreed. The flicker of a genuine smile crossed his lips as Tommy sparred with him. "Regardless, I won't be here in July. We are going to Spain, isn't that right, Nigel?"

"You're what now," Tommy turned to Nigel. "You never told me that."

"Well, it's news to me," Nigel glared at his cousin.

"If my mother has anything to do with it, she's dragging your family along on her little holiday. In my experience Mother gets what she wants."

Nigel turned a lobsterish pink at the news and Tommy could tell he was biting his tongue on the matter.

"So then Holiday?" Liam asked hopefully. "I really don't want to spend my summer with you fellahs."

Tommy frowned and crossed his arms. "If that's what you want you bunch of ingrates then have it your way."

---

Madeline worriedly kept an eye on her son who was lying on the sofa watching television. He had decided not to play soccer that year and had become quite moody since his friends had gone to Spain. She walked over to the sofa, pushed his legs over the edge and sat down beside him.

"Why don't you go outside, sweetie," she said.

"I don't want to go outside," he countered petulantly. "There ain't nothing to do out there."

"You should call one of your friends," She offered.

"They're in Spain," he muttered.

"The Caughtons?" She laughed at him. "You have lots of friends, Tommy, you used to invite them over all the time."

"I don't like those people," Tommy said pointedly.

"Well, I can't have you sitting around all the time like a lump on a log," she chastised him.

He grumbled at her for a moment, but he knew it was true.

"Why don't we ever go anywhere," he finally muttered.

"You have everything you need right here," she dismissed him with a smile.

"I ain't ever even been to the country," he continued. "Never seen a tree that wasn't in a Garden."

"Oh, Tommy," She clucked at him. "Yes you have."

"I just want to go somewhere," he suddenly sat up with his revelation. "Can't we go to the country?"

Madeline, taken aback, didn't say anything.

"I would really like that," Tommy continued, excited at the prospect of leaving the city for a while.

Madeline sighed and ruffled his hair. "I'll see what I can do."

Tommy's face lit up and he hugged his mother then stood up.

"I think I'll go to the park, alright?"

"Alright," she agreed glad to have him finally out of the house.

--

Tommy didn't go to the park. Instead he walked for a few blocks until he came to a stop in front of Brian Humboldt's building. He stood there and pulled a cigarette from his jacket pocket and placed it on his lips. He had never really been friends with Brian, even when they went to the same school, and he knew the only reason he was there was because they had only one thing in common and Tommy had nothing else to distract him from the pursuit of furthering his sexual experiences. Liam had already begun bragging about his many conquests. His stories were grandiose and highly exaggerated if not completely unbelievable. Tommy found these flights of fancy boring and completely divorced from reality, but was forced to listen as Nigel was curious about such tales, and so was Richard, if only to berate Liam afterward for making it all up.

"Are you gonna stand there, or you gonna ring me buzzer," a voice piped up from behind him. "Because I can tell you there ain't nobody home."

Tommy turned around, pulled the Cigarette from his lips and smiled.
8
"Brian!"

"Well, I haven't seen you in a good while," Brian flounced past him. Tommy hadn't seen him in a year and his brown hair had grown past his shoulders. He had grown, taller and thinner and was swaddled in a fur collared knee length suede jacket.

"I've been busy," Tommy mumbled as he appreciatively looked over his old acquaintance.

"Yeah, yeah, Love 'em and Leave 'em, ain't that right, Tom Sinclair," Brian turned to smile mischievously. "Come on in, I'll make you a cuppa."

Tommy curiously followed him into the building and into the kitchen where Brian sloughed off his coat and put a kettle on the stove to boil.

"Look, I'm sorry I never called," Tommy said in as sincere a way as he could muster.

"I should be upset," Brian admitted. "I, of all people, get to snog the cutest boy in school, only to have him leave me to play with his posh friends across town. Why'd you have to come along, Tommy Sinclair? So fucking cute, so sure of what you want. Back when you was eleven no less! I'm still confused, but with you around it's so obvious! And it's so easy!"

"I'm sorry, Brian," Tommy frowned sadly. He mumbled, "It's not easy," under his breath but Brain didn't hear him.

"You probably shouldn't have come back he said as he set a cup of hot water and a tea bag down on the table in front of Tommy. "I mean, isn't it enough that I spend every day worryin' about how damn queer I am and worryin' about how everybody knows and makes my life miserable? Now you're back here and it kinda makes me want to do every naughty thing I've ever imagined when I'm trying not to think like that."

The teabag made a loud splash as Tommy distractedly dropped it into the steaming cup of water. He took a moment to compose himself then and then sat back calmly in his chair.

"Is your mum at work," he asked.

"Oh, no you don't," Brian smiled at him. "It's not going to be like that this time, Tommy Sinclair. We're a little bit older and I'm a little bit smarter in spite of myself."

Tommy dejectedly frowned.

"Oh, C'mon," Brian laughed at Tommy's obvious discomfort. "It wouldn't work anyway, we're both far too cute, we'd cancel each other out, right?"

The corner of Tommy's mouth turned up into a slight smile and Brian happily clapped his shoulder.

"See, there's that smile!" he exuberantly chirped. "Now, the least can do is buy a girl some dinner...maybe a film."

"What," Tommy looked up into Brian's blue eyes. "I thought you said..."

"I said it wouldn't work out, darling. I didn't say I wasn't interested." he replied with a wink. "Like I said, you're far too cute."

---

The summer passed quickly and soon enough the Blumes and the Caughtons returned from Spain. Nigel welcomed home with opened arms and was ready to get back to his band, but found that Tommy had disappeared to the country with his mother and that left him with his cousin Richard, who was stood in his bedroom histrionically shouting at him for an explanation.

"He's supposed to be here," Richard pounded his fist into his hand. "Where is he?"

"Holiday," Nigel grumbled. "He left a note."

"Yeah, but we're supposed to be a band," Richard sniffed. "How can we do that with him off traipsing about in the hills, or the woods, or wherever the fuck he went."

Nigel stared at him with an opened mouth for a moment.

"What," Richard crossed his arms as he noted Nigel's expression.

"What are you talking about? You're the reason he's gone! We were supposed to be getting good this summer, and your fucking family takes us away to Spain where I did nothing! What's Tom supposed to do? Sit around and wait for us to come back? He's got his own family, and you are not even in the band so what do you care, you mad bastard!"

"Don't call me that," Richard scowled angrily down at his cousin. "I'm not mad."

"Fine you're not mad," Nigel relented, "but you are certainly walking the line."

Richard harrumphed and threw himself into one of Nigel's lounge chairs.

"He doesn't even like you," Nigel pointed out. He had become quite weary and suspicious of his cousin over the many hours they had been forced to spend together.

"He doesn't," Richard perked up in surprise. "Did he say that?"

"No," Nigel admitted. He didn't like the time Tommy spent with his cousin and he didn't like the influence his cousin held over both of them. He knew he wasn't being truthful and he wasn't being nice, but he still couldn't help himself.

"But he doesn't," Nigel continued. "Has he ever even invited you to his flat? I've been to his flat. Liam's been to his flat"

Richard frowned, and a moment of hurt flashed across his eyes before the monster in him reared it's ugly head.

"I don't want to visit his hovel anyway," he tossed his head and assumed a superior expression. "Maybe I don't like him either. He's always hoverin' over my shoulder. I'm glad he's not here."

"But you were just...," Nigel again regarded Richard with exasperation and then thought better than to get into another circular argument with someone who was incapable of making any sense.

--

An irritated Nigel stalked his way down the corridors in search of Tommy Sinclair, and he found him in the courtyard sitting on a bench animatedly chatting with Rita Gully, a quiet, smart girl who nobody usually took notice.

"Hey, can I talk to you," Nigel stood over them interrupting as he cast a long shadow over them blotting out the sun entirely with his giant curly blond Afro.

"I haven't seen you in a couple months," Tommy replied, "But you seem to have gotten a lot ruder, have you been getting tips from Richard?"

"Yeah, yeah, I have," Nigel countered sharply and added, "No thanks to you!"

It took a moment for the realization that the usually steadfast and calm Nigel was in fact, irate, and Tommy knew it was directed at him and could easily guess why. So he sighed and frowned and excused himself from Rita's company.

"You have been avoiding me," Nigel declared once they were out of earshot.

"Have I," Tommy queried though he knew full well that he had been. "I hadn't noticed, I've been busy."

"Busy," Nigel huffed. He stood shaded by the school building with his arms crossed and a rigid scowl adorning his features.

Tommy looked up at his neglected friend and felt very small.

"I've been going through some things," Tommy evasively replied as he shuffled from foot to foot attempting to avoid Nigel's glare.

"Things?" Nigel said. "Things that you have to avoid me for?"

"Well," Tommy shrugged.

"Nice," Nigel frowned. "Just...NICE. If you don't want to be my friend you can just tell me."

"God, you really have been spending too much time with Richard," Tommy attempted a lighthearted smile and a friendly pat on Nigel's arm but was swatted away for his effort.

"Well," Tommy spoke in a conspiratory whisper. "I had sex, if you must know." It was an effective way to quickly change the subject. He didn't want to mention that he'd been spending time with Brian Humboldt.

"That's what you've been doing?" Nigel replied dubiously. "Who with?"

"Grace," Tommy frowned feeling embarrassed and unsure of Nigel's reaction.

Nigel stood thoughtfully for a moment as he tried to place the name then asked with a confused look upon his face, "Isn't Grace your cousin?"

"She's not my cousin!" Tommy hissed. "My Aunt had her way before she married my Uncle, Grace wasn't a Sinclair then and she's not a Sinclair now!"

"Defensive," Nigel noted as his anger slowly transformed into a teasing grin.

"It's not funny," Tommy said indignantly.

"You're avoiding me because of that?" Nigel asked.

"I just don't want to talk about it," he replied carefully sidestepping the fact that he had been spending the weeks since his return from the country with his old school friend, Brian.

"Really? Because, Liam..." Nigel started and was instantly interrupted.

"Liam is a liar," Tommy said. "It was embarrassing, and I don't want to talk about it, Okay!"

"Okay," Nigel relented.

"And do not tell anybody else, either," Tommy warned. "I'm only telling you, because you're my best friend and I don't have to make up some big story about how great it was, because it wasn't. It was stupid."

"Okay," Nigel smiled happy to be back in his friend's confidence, a position he feared he had been losing hold on.

--

Tommy didn't get any warmer a reception from Nigel's cousin. Richard sat down at lunch and was icily silent as the other three compatriots caught up on the summer's exploits. Liam was more than happy to share stories of his drinking and his conquests, made up as they were. Nigel told tales of sunny beaches and Richard running amok throughout Spain. Tommy carefully avoided any mention of Grace and instead related anecdotes of his Aunt's provincial daily life.

He hailed Richard after the days obligations and Richard allowed himself to be waylaid but not without an obvious grimace in Tommy's direction. Tommy ignored the facial expression and they stood side by side on the pavement outside the school staring at the traffic that passed by.

"You didn't say much today," Tommy noted. Without looking at Richard he pulled cigarette from his jacket pocket and lit it.

"Don't have much to say," Richard muttered. He afforded himself a glance over at his friend but turned away quickly when Tommy caught him staring.

"So the way Nigel tells it you've had fun on holiday, yeah?" Tommy said and turned to face his companion. Richard continued to stare at the traffic and refused to meet his gaze.

"It's not fun," Richard said coldly. "It's never fun."

"Right," Tommy turned away and looked down at his feet.

As the weeks flew by their relationship continued to devolve into a series of awkward silences and furtive glances. Richard withdrew and refused to be involved in any activity to which Tommy invited him, yet Tommy was persistent. He felt as if Richard was hiding something and thought it was his job to cajole it out of him. Things eventually came out, and not in the way Tommy had hoped. It was Liam's incessant poking and prodding that finally popped the bubble of tension that surrounded the group of friends. He had smuggled a dirty magazine that he had stolen from a bookstore into school and was proudly showing off his ill gotten gains.

"Why don't you put that away," Richard spoke up for the first time in weeks.

"Why? You gay or somethin'," Liam barely looked up from the centerfold as he replied.

"No," Richard replied coolly.

"You're gay," Liam decided as he finally looked up. "You're really, really gay."

Richard blanched at this assertion and snapped his mouth shut.

"I'm not stupid," Liam continued. "You never talk to the girls, you don't even glance at them, and yet you're all about glances in the changin' room aren't you?"

"Please," Richard huffed. He was; however, unable to meet Liam's defiant gaze.

"Leave him alone," Tommy stood up from his place on the sidelines. "You know he's on medication."

"Wot?" Liam openly laughed. "Medication to make him a poof?"

"I don't need your help," Richard said sharply and tried to tug Tommy back into a seated position, but he yanked his arm away from Richard's grasp and held it out towards Liam.

"Give me that," he gestured towards the magazine which lay folded, neatly hidden underneath Liam's lunch tray.

Liam was all for creating a scene at the expense of his companions and he handed over the publication relishing the thought of the possibly ensuing theatrics.

"This is not the time nor the place," Tommy growled as he rolled up the paper and thrust it pointedly at his bass player. "This is going in the bin where it belongs, and as for you Liam, how dare you sit here and throw stones at people."

"I was just makin' a joke," Liam shrugged at Tommy. "Why? Are you queer too."

Tommy stared at him for a moment. His mind went completely blank, his mouth opened and out spilled the words,

"Maybe I am."

Liam laughed it off, Richard bit his lip and stared at place beyond Nigel's shoulder as the colour drained completely from his face, and Nigel just looked up at his friend in a distressed manner and asked if he were joking.

"Why would I joke about that," Tommy asked crossing his arms as he looked pointedly at Nigel, who knew very well it was not something that Tommy would ever make jokes about.

"But you said you did it with Grace Meyer," Nigel whispered.

Tommy glowered at Nigel who had unintentionally spilled a secret that Tommy had never meant anyone to hear.

"I'm sorry," Nigel squeaked under the pressure of the glare. "I just don't understand what you're telling us."

"Yea," Liam piped in happily. "What are you telling us?"

"I don't know," Tommy replied. "Maybe I like both, I don't fucking know, Nigel, okay? I don't have to know, but he," Tommy poked the magazine at Liam again as his voice began to rise. "He shouldn't be makin' fun of anybody let alone Richard, who hasn't done a damn thing to deserve it. If you have to be a wanker you can tease me."

Liam squirmed as Tommy's glare turned towards him.

"Sorry, I didn't know," he muttered. "I'm not going to tease you if you're going to be such a blouse about it."

"Oh, just fuck you, Liam," Tommy practically shouted back at him.

Liam opened his mouth as if to mount another comeback, but just as quickly snapped it shut and shrugged innocently up at the administrator who had appeared as quickly as he could at the sound of the commotion. He put one hand on Tommy's shoulder and held the other out.

"Magazine, Sinclair," he said sharply.

Tommy sheepishly handed it over.

"Care to explain what this is about?"

Tommy sighed. He was unwilling to implicate any of his friends despite the fact that Liam was the reason for the incident.

"No, sir," he replied with a defeated sigh, and was promptly marched away to the headmistress' office.

---

He was in the midst of being further punished by his mother that evening when the buzzer to the flat rang. Madeline allowed the caller into the building and silently evaluated him as he walked in the door. Tommy had never introduced them and she was curious as to why. Nothing about Richard was particularly worrying however. He was soft spoken, respectful and polite. She allowed Tommy to speak with him.

"Only a few minutes, Thompson," Madeline warned. "I'm not finished with you yet."

"Yes, Mum," Tommy replied glumly from the sofa. He didn't allow himself to show how surprised and excited he was that Richard had stopped by.

"Thompson," Richard asked as he sat down on the accompanying love seat.

"Now you know my horrible secret," Tommy smiled a little. "I'm not a Thomas. You should hear my middle name."

"What's your middle name," Richard asked eagerly.

Tommy thought about it for a moment before speaking, "It's Rutherford."

Richard clapped his hands over his mouth to muffle the delighted peel of laughter that burst forth from his lips.

"Laugh it up, Richey," Tommy grinned. "At least I'm not a Blume."

Richard's laughter trailed off and he smiled ruefully. "If only that were true for the both of us," he said wistfully.

They locked eyes for a lingering moment before the conversation stumbled forward.

"I've got to say, I'm surprised you didn't burst in here in a rage, screaming for my head," Tommy admitted. "I'm surprised you're here at all actually."

"I'm not angry," Richard shrugged. "Nigel, told me your addy. I asked him."

"Where is he," Tommy frowned with disappointment.

"Oh, he and Liam," Richard nervously rubbed the back of his head. "They're just in a bit of a shock, yeah?"

"And here you are," Tommy gestured towards his visitor. "Who would have thought you were the one on my side? Maybe Liam was onto something?"

"That's not fair," Richard glared at his friend. "Why are you surprised? That...that, I don't care? I'm not full of hate or, or, fear, or whatever? That I actually want to thank you for sticking up for me? For bein' nice? For bein' the only person who is ever nice to me? If it's true, what you said, how does that change us?"

Tommy didn't say anything, he just returned Richard's glare at a loss for words.

"Unless it changes us," Richard thought out loud. "This doesn't change us does it?"

"No of course not," Tommy scoffed at the thought. "I shouldn't have said that."

"You're as bad as Liam," Richard pointed out smugly.

"No!" Tommy shook his head unwilling to be compared to Liam.

"Look, I didn't come here to be accused again," Richard stood up angrily. "Just because you want somebody to commiserate with. Go find a bloody support group. I just want to say thank you."

"Okay, I'm sorry," Tommy stood up in an effort to thwart Richard's impending departure. "You're right, I do want somebody to commiserate with right now, but..."

"It's not going to be me," Richard interrupted. "I just...well...you'd do well to just leave me alone."

"But, I need someone to talk to..."

Richard held up a hand to Tommy's face as if to block any more words.

"I told you before to stop. Just leave me alone, okay?"

Tommy sagged with the weight of the perpetual frustration Richard heaped upon him. He shook his head as if the clear it then sighed and verbally acquiesced to his friends wishes, though he had no intention of leaving Richard alone.

***
His mother had banished him to his room for the entire week long period and took his guitar away. He was relegated to scribbling lyrics on paper and lying on his bed with nothing but his thoughts to keep him company. It was a worse fate than anything he could possibly think of. Madeline was aware of how miserable her son was without his primary source of entertainment and his friends to keep him company. It was even worse for her as the week wore on and she realized that he was no longer speaking to her. She tried to prod conversation out of him once the weekend rolled around.

"So this Richard, he seems nice," she spoke up at dinner on a Saturday night.

"Things are not always as they seem," Tommy grumped as he pawed listlessly at the vegetables on his plate.

"Anything you want to talk about," she asked curiously. "Still haven't 'decided' if you like him?"

"No, I like him. I wouldn't be friends with him if I didn't like him," Tommy admitted. "That doesn't mean he's nice, Mum. He's not nice, he's Richey."

"Oh, right," She feigned understanding. "Why don't you ever invite him over? You know your friends can come over whenever you want."

"I was embarrassed," Tommy blurted without thought.

"Embarrassed," his mothers involuntarily took on a dismayed pitch. "What for?"

Tommy shrugged and took a tentative bite of his food.

"You know you can't let those people get you down," Madeline announced. "You're getting a good education, and you have nothing to be ashamed of. Winnin' a scholarship! You're a smart boy, and I'm proud of you, and your father's proud of you..."

"Mum, stop," Tommy shook his head and smiled slightly at her. "It's not 'those people'. I get reminded every day at school that I'm not 'as good' as they are. I don't care about impressing them. I care about impressing Richard, and to be fair to him, he hasn't really let on that my not having gobs of money bothers him at all. This is my doing. My embarrassment, and I ain't ever gonna have enough to please him. It's not his fault."

"Why do you want to please him?" Madeline asked suspiciously.

"Because he's sad," Tommy replied without thinking as he focused his attention away from the conversation and back onto his meal.

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