Day 21

When they reached the point in the kiss where it would have to either end or segue into making out, Danny pulled back and looked Jeremy in the eye; the other boy's face was open and dreamy, his soft mouth wet and his big brown eyes looking up at Danny worshipfully. Danny gave him a little kiss on the nose and pulled away, putting his arm possessively around Jeremy's shoulders and looking around at the crowd of students watching them.

The faces looking back at him were blank and impossible to gauge. Danny decided to resume his original intention of leaving school, allowing the students to get over their surprise and spread the information around to the few people who hadn't been in the lunchroom or the hallway at the time. Pulling Jeremy along with him, he marched down the corridor and through the front doors of the school.

They walked in silence for six blocks until they came to a little coffee-house on Pine Street, halfway between the school and the town square, a popular meeting place for after-school socializing. Though they were truant, none of the staff challenged their presence, and though it was a counter-service establishment, one of the girls came to Danny's table to take his order -- some perqs of being a Vandervere were useful and pleasant, and Danny tended to make use of them, though not to excess.

"I can't believe they did that to me," Danny said finally, sipping his capuccino thoughtfully, "I can't believe I had to pull my name out on them."

"Are you OK?" Jeremy asked solicitously, "That was pretty dramatic, I've never seen you like that."

"I don't think I've ever been so angry in my life," Danny shook his head at the memory.

"It was really hot," Jeremy gave him a through-the-lashes look.

"You're so sweet," Danny smiled and took his hand, holding it on top of the table; Jeremy started to pull away with a glance at the counter staff, but remembered that the whole hiding thing was over with; he picked up Danny's hand and kissed it. Danny laughed, exhilarated by the freedom, but then sobered quickly, "I just don't understand why people were turning away from me. Is it really that big a deal?"

"That's what I was always afraid was going to happen," Jeremy said, shivering a little, "You never understood what I was afraid of before. I don't have the Vandervere name to protect me."

"But it just doesn't make sense, Jeremy," Danny insisted, "I've known most of these people all my life. You only came two years ago, you don't realize that I've been friends with some of those guys since kindergarten. I can't believe something as inconsequential as being gay would turn them against me. There has to be more to it."

"Can I ask you something?" Jeremy looked at him very seriously, "You said you know for a fact that a dozen other boys in school are gay."

"Yeah?"

"I know you said you weren't going to name names, but I'm curious how you know."

"Oh," Danny sighed sadly, "I didn't want you to know this, but I can't keep secrets anymore. I've been, well, promiscuous is probably the best word. I know they're gay, or at least bi, because I've had sex with them."

"While we've been together?" Jeremy frowned.

"Yeah," Danny admitted, "I'm sorry."

Jeremy looked at him for a long thoughtful moment, "It's OK. It's not like we have been having sex all this time. That would have made a difference."

"Well, I don't think it's going to be like that anymore," Danny leaned his head on one hand, "No boy will dare be alone in a room with me after today."

"Oh, I don't know," Jeremy reached across the table and stroked Danny's cheek, "You're pretty persuasive, gorgeous face, rockin' bod, smooth talker. It's taken all I have to resist you."

"Why do you resist me?" Danny asked, enjoying having the cards on the table like this.

"You remember that book you gave me that you liked so much? Gaudy Night? That mystery book that didn't have a murder in it?"

"Dorothy L. Sayers. It was about love, not about murder," Danny smiled at him.

"The main character said something about the lord guy she was afraid to fall in love with. Something like 'if I ever gave in to him, I'd burn up like straw and there'd be nothing left of me.'"

"I think you'll remember that she didn't burn up like straw," Danny laughed, "They lived happily ever after."

"People usually do in books."

"It happens in real life, too," Danny stroked Jeremy's soft brown hair.

"Nevertheless," Jeremy sat back and smiled mysteriously at Danny.

"You'll let me know when you are ready?"

"You will be the absolute first to know."

*****

When Danny showed up at school the next morning, he was completely taken aback by the greeting he received: dozens of people clustered around, apologizing for their behavior and begging his forgiveness. They had reacted in that hostile manner because they'd been told Danny was lying to them, making fools of them, and laughing at them behind their backs. They were told Danny was cruel to people he perceived as gay in order to cover up his own sexuality, and was spreading rumors about other boys to deflect suspicion from himself.

"But who would have told you that?" Danny wanted to know. And each and every time he asked, the answer was either Claude Bettancourt, Sandra Bettancourt, or someone who'd heard it directly from them. Before homeroom was over, Danny had the entire rumor mapped out, exactly how it had spread out from Claude and precisely which of the Populars' clique had abetted him by spreading it.

When lunchtime came, Danny boldly took his tray to the center table and placed himself at the head of the Populars. Most of them had the sense to look ashamed of themselves, but Sandra and Claude stared back at him in challenge.

"So I'm curious," Danny said between bites of shrimp fettucine, "What did I do to turn you cunts against me?"

"How dare you use that word?" Sandra huffed, her head held high.

"Claude I kind of understand," Danny shrugged, "since I turned him down when he made a pass at me last week. He's new here, he wouldn't comprehend the risk; and he's an asshole. But you, Sandra? Why?"

"How do you think it makes me look that a boy I dated turned gay?" she insisted.

"I don't think it damages your reputation," Danny said reasonably, "In fact, it rather enhances it, that you are beautiful enough to attract the affections of a gay boy. Is that the only reason you risked social oblivion and hurting your family's business?"

"What do you mean?" Sandra looked frightened.

"It would take very little effort for me to make sure people didn't invite you to parties, or talk to you at lunch, or vote for you as prom queen. It would take little more effort to make Bettancourt's the most un-cool clothiers in Vandervere; it would take only slightly more effort than that to have someone at the Trust raise the rent on your father's store. You remember what Felicia Goode's father did to her when she insulted me and broke up with me in public last year? She was grounded for a month and lost her allowance for the rest of the year just because I might have taken revenge on him for her treatment of me. Imagine what your father would do to you if I actually did take revenge."

"You wouldn't!" she gasped, horrified.

"No, I wouldn't," Danny admitted, smiling gently, "But it must have occurred to you that I could. What made you take that chance?"

"Him," Sandra spat, turning on her cousin, "He said you'd never admit to being gay and wouldn't be able to retaliate without admitting it."

"That was very stupid," Danny said, turning to face Claude. All of the people at the table also turned toward Claude, even the kids at neighboring tables had stopped eating and talking in order to watch.

"You think you're so great," Claude stood up and stepped around his cousin to look down at Danny, a vicious sneer disfiguring his pretty face, hatred glinting in his peridot eyes, "You think you're some big-shot just because your family runs this rinky-dink little town. You think it's fine that everyone calls me "Claude the Fag" at this school, but they think you're the cat's ass because you've got a pretty face and big shoulders and the town name. Well, you're no better than me, Danny Vandervere, and now everyone knows it."

"I never heard people call you that," Dannys said honestly, understanding a little bit of why the boy had attacked him, "I wouldn't have allowed it."

"Who the hell are you to allow anything?" the boy screamed hysterically, "You're a fucking slut. I know all about you from Derrick and Trent and Manuel. You see, I'm not above naming names. There's a few other names I could mention, too, like..."

"That's enough!" Danny reached out and grabbed the boy by his shirt-collar, standing up and looming over him, "You will shut up now."

"You don't scare me, faggot," Claude spit in his face, stepping back and straightening his shirt when Danny let go of him to wipe the saliva off his cheek, "I don't give a shit what you think you can do. I don't give a shit what any of you bitches think. I don't give a shit what you think, Sandra. None of you assholes are my friends, and I will take great pleasure in telling everyone everything I know about everyone else. Fasten your seatbelts, bitches."

Claude turned and stormed out of the room with great dignity, much as Danny had stormed out the day before. But instead of whispers of surprise and conjecture, there was nothing but silence as everyone in the room watched him go.

"I'm sorry, Danny," Sandra was shaking her head sadly, "I didn't know you turned him down. He told me you let him fuck you in the ass. And that you made fun of me."

"I would never make fun of you, Sandra, you know that," Danny took her hand, "When have you ever heard me make fun of anyone?"

"I know," she wiped a stray tear from her eye, Danny couldn't tell if she was really crying or just making a show of it, "But it upset me that you'd let him fuck you."

"You make is sound like a bad thing," Danny laughed, swirling up some more pasta on his fork, "But I'm here to tell you, getting fucked in the ass is a lot more fun than some people seem to think."

The whole table roared with laughter and the break of tension rippled out through the rest of the room, allowing the rest of the lunch hour to pass as usual, but with more new things to discuss than had ever before happened in such a short period of time.

*****

Three weeks later, Danny was in his room preparing for his first official date with Jeremy, the first time they were going somewhere as a couple. It was the Halloween Dance, and the costumes for Romeo and Juliet were completed and delivered; all of the cast planned to wear their costumes to the dance in order to drum up interest in the play, which would be presented in a few weeks.

Claudia Vandervere had decided on an Elizabethan English translation of the costumes, as would have been worn by the original Globe cast, rather than Italian Renaissance costumes such as Zeffirelli had used -- Claudia thought the tights and short jerkins were "indecent." And when she saw the initial sketches for the English costumes, she censored those as well, insisting that the boys not wear codpieces with their blousy trunk-hose, and the girls' bodices should sit just below the clavicle, several inches higher than was historically accurate.

Despite these strictures, Danny looked insanely sexy in his costume. It was very dark red velvet, showing black and brown tones in certain lights; the close-fitting doublet had gold rose-shaped buttons set with glass rubies and a high collar topped by a starched white ruff, the tight sleeves were tied at the shoulder and elbow with dark-gold satin ribbons, allowing the puffy white shirt to peep through the gaps, and the cuffs were short pleated ruffles; the trunk hose fell to mid-thigh and were made of strips of velvet embroidered at the edges with gold, over a black satin lining, with black tights and tall shiny black boots over the knee.

He had a sword, a golden swept-hilt rapier in a black leather scabbard hanging on a gold-embroidered black leather belt, and a jeweled main gauche stilleto (actually a letter-opener) tucked into a sheath behind an embroidered black velvet purse hanging on his hip. He had several jeweled rings on his fingers and a heavy gold chain draped over his shoulders.

There was a matching cap with a white peacock feather and a jeweled brooch that Danny didn't want to wear, as he preferred having his hair loose, and a short black velvet cape to drape over one shoulder that would be too fussy for dancing; he'd even unbuttoned the doublet nearly to his sternum, allowing his neck to breathe easier. He didn't want to get overheated in a crowded room.

In all the years he'd been fencing, he'd never actually worn a sword, and was surprised by how difficult it was; he was finding the costume party a good opportunity to rehearse wearing the thing as he made his way through the house and down to the first floor, trying to keep it from banging on the stairs and knocking things off of tables.

On the first floor, he encountered a dozen small children in costume trooping through the foyer into the main hall, where a casual sort of haunted house had been set up, with cackling mechanical monsters and dry-ice fog, the servants dressed up as zombies serving punch and cookies to the trick-or-treaters and their attendant parents; as the guests left, Mayor Vandervere and his wife distributed little wrapped goodie-bags to each of the children and shook hands with each of the parents, performing their civic duty with a very graceful show of hospitality.

Danny stopped in the hall to have his costume admired by Mrs. Espinosa and the girls, then drew his sword and slashed it quasi-threateningly at a gaggle of delighted five-year-olds. He had a moment of confusion when trying to get into his car, unable to quite figure out how to get in with the sword, and eventually had to take the whole belt off and throw it in the back seat.

When he picked Jeremy up, he got out and put the belt back on to show off the ensemble to Jeremy's parents; they had accepted their son's sexuality, complete with boyfriend, quite easily, having long suspected that their son was gay and only concerned that he be happy.

Jeremy's costume, as Mercutio, was all black with flashes of white, severe and almost priestly, which made his slim body even slimmer and his softly pretty face even prettier. It was smooth wool serge with jaquard ribbon trim, but otherwise exactly like Danny's, with silver buttons and sword instead of gold, and no jewels but a silver heraldic medal on a thick Byzantine chain.

"Oh, God, you look amazing," Danny said to Jeremy, moving close and taking his hands, but not kissing him, not sure that his parents were quite ready for displays of affection yet.

"These costumes are hot," Jeremy smiled up at him.

"You're telling me," Danny flashed his eyes, a roguish smirk curling his lip.

"No, I mean, I'm melting in this getup. Does it have to be wool?"

"Open your doublet a little," Danny started undoing the top few buttons, "You'll be able to breathe better. And we can take our sleeves off later, it will be cooler."

"Stop it," Jeremy whispered, grabbing Danny's hands at the third button, "Or we'll never get to the dance."

"Good night, Mr. and Mrs. Miller," Danny let him go and turned toward his parents, sweeping into the deep theatrical bow he was learning for Tybalt, "I'll have Jeremy home by midnight."

"You forgot the 'forsooth,'" Jeremy teased him.

"Let me take a picture of you boys," Mrs. Miller said, bringing up a little red digital camera and aiming at them. Danny threw his arm around Jeremy's shoulder and grinned happily as the flash went off, "That's lovely. You boys have a nice time tonight."
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