Never a Hero

her approval. When El waved at me through his shop window, she sneered. “What a horrible little store.” And when Seth stepped out of his door to call after me, “That offer still stands, Owen!” she turned to me with obvious horror.
    “For God’s sake, Owen. Please tell me you’re not getting tattoos now.”
    “N-n-no, M-Mom. It was j-j-j—”
    “People get AIDS at places like that, you know. Heaven knows how many people they’ve infected.”
    “Th-th-they don’t m-m-m-make p-p-p-p—” They don’t make people sick. That’s what I wanted to say. They’re smart. They’re careful. They’re regulated! The words built up behind my tongue like water against a dam, but they couldn’t break free. There was no way to have them heard without them tumbling over each other, making me sound like a fool.
    “Don’t try to defend them,” my mom interrupted. “I see all the rainbow flags in the windows. I’m not stupid. I know what that means. This is where the gays live. I suppose if they get AIDS, it’s only what they deserve.”
    “Sh-sh-shut up, Mom! You d-d-don’t know anything!”
    “I know you’re living here in this neighborhood with that boy downstairs. You play piano at his house. I’m not blind.”
    “Valerie, that’s enough,” my dad said.
    “It’s indecent. That’s all.”
    Anger welled up in me, hot and vile and cruel.
    “Y-y-you’re r-right, Mom. I’m a f-f-fag just like them! Is th-that what you want to h-h-hear?” She stepped back as if I’d slapped her, and I was glad. I hated her for a hundred different reasons—for humiliating me all my life, for being cruel, for refusing to love me for who I was. But at that moment, what I hated her for most was her ignorant statement about homosexuals deserving AIDS. Nick didn’t deserve to have his disease. Nobody did. “Y-y-you’re a horrible person! Do you know th-that?”
    “Excuse me?”
    “Do you h-h-have any idea how m-m-miserable you’ve m-made me? Do you even c-care?”
    She pulled herself together, shoulders thrust back and her spine rigid. “Stop it, Owen. Listen to yourself. You don’t even know what you’re saying.”
    But she was wrong. I knew exactly what I was saying.
    I left them standing there, my mother angry, my father calling for me to come back. I ignored him.
    I decided to walk home, despite the cold. I felt broken and defeated, shattered into a million little pieces by my mother’s cruel indifference. She’d done just as I’d feared, taken all of my newfound confidence and crushed it beneath her heel. But this time, I knew how to get it back. There was one person who could always help me put myself back together, and right now, I wanted him more than ever.

It was all I could do to hold myself together until Nick answered the door, but the minute he did, I felt better. The dogs swarmed around my feet, begging for attention, but I ignored them. I grabbed Nick with my one good hand and pulled him toward me.
    “Don’t tell me no. Not today.”
    I didn’t give him time to protest. I kissed him instead, hard and insistent, putting every ounce of my frustration into it. I was broken, and I wanted him to help fix me. I wanted him to feel my urgency. To know how much I needed him, and to accept the fact that he needed me too. Because he did. Whether he was ready to admit it or not, I knew in my heart that I filled an empty space in his life, just as he did for me. I’d had enough of his foolish nobility and his excuses. He made me happy in a way nobody else ever had. I wanted to do the same for him. I begged him with my kiss to give me that chance.
    He hesitated for a moment, but then he put his arms around my waist, and he kissed me back.
    Everything changed in the moment when his tongue touched mine. Every bit of restraint he’d held onto against me was gone. It was frantic and primal, weeks’ worth of attraction and denial overflowing, driving us at each other, tearing down the walls.
    This was what I wanted—to be with him. To have my desire returned. To have the horrible empty place inside me filled by his tenderness. To know that I was safe and cared for and understood. I didn’t care about the virus or my mother’s horrible words. I loved Nick. I belonged with Nick. And right now, at this moment, I wanted to shred our clothes. To lock the doors and let the world die a frozen death while we reveled in our heat. I wanted to feel his body, hard and naked and heavy on mine.
    He let me guide him