flannel shirts, boots, and jeans as part of his “homo camo”.
His motto: Don’t call attention to yourself and they’ll never know. Only, he had, they did, and now he lived with his aunt.
Billy talking to a kid behind the counter left Dave free to shoot discreet glances at the basket again. Condoms. Right in plain sight, not offered by a well-meaning older cousin, or acquired by a friend of a friend bold enough to march into the local health clinic and make demands. Hell, soon Dave would graduate high school and he’d never even used one—for its intended purpose, that is. Water balloons didn’t count.
“Here you go. One caramel macchiato.” Billy handed him a lidded cup and sighed. “If I was a shrimp like you, I could have one too. I got a skinny vanilla.”
Billy had what Dave’s mom called “puppy fat,” though he was no longer a puppy at eighteen. He was also the first openly gay teenager Dave had ever met, only because he’d been the one handing out fliers at the door for the Gay/Straight Alliance meeting Aunt Lisa had insisted Dave go to, “To meet other nice young men your age.” Five minutes after arriving, Dave had met more gay guys than he knew existed—and many had shoved phone numbers into his pockets.
Billy had gone one step further, offering to walk Dave home and sorting through the phone numbers to weed out the losers. Funny how all the guys who’d given their numbers had wound up discarded. But Billy and Dave had been best friends ever since.
They sat at a back table, away from the couples, older ladies, and a group of women chatting while trying to entertain small kids. Dave’s eyes kept straying to the basket. “I can’t believe they put them out like that, in a coffee shop!”
“A lot of stores here have them, doing their part to prevent pregnancy, the spread of HIV and other infectious diseases.” Billy popped the lid off his coffee and slurped the dark liquid.
Dave shot a glare at Billy.
“Hey! It says so, right on the card.”
Sure enough, a placard above the basket said, “Doing our part to prevent pregnancy, the spread of HIV and other infectious diseases,” followed by, in smaller letters, “please help yourself.”
“I bet no one has the nerve to take them.” If only Dave had the guts to grab a handful. One day soon he’d find the right guy and have sex for the very first time. At least he could have his own supplies and not come across as a total goober.
His Aunt Lisa had stammered through a short version of “the talk”, blushed bright red, then brought in reinforcements in the form of the gay couple down the street who’d pretty much told him, “No glove, no love” and “you can skimp on some things, but never buy cheap lube.” So much for having gay spiritual guides. Of course, the men were in their forties and probably didn’t lecture teenagers much.
Before Billy answered, two guys blocked the view. One threw a cup in the trash and the other reached toward the basket. When he straightened he shoved his hand into his pocket. “Oh, he’s hoping to get lucky,” Billy remarked. The guy withdrew his hand to place it on the other man’s back.
Dave’s raging teenage libido declared a field day. He shifted in his chair to hide a semi-erection. And yet, once the lust died, other things came to his attention. Regardless of age or gender, no one seemed to bat an eye at an openly gay couple touching in public and snagging free rubbers. Dave had died and gone to heaven. And despite what Reverend Scott used to say back at his mom’s church, there were homosexuals here. Lots of ‘em. Dave no longer had to worry about being gay; he just had to worry about the condoms in the basket and that he’d never had the occasion use one.
He had questions, and his choices for answers boiled down to: a) asking Aunt Lisa and praying she didn’t break any speed limits while escaping, b) hoping the gay neighbors wouldn’t mind a game of “Twenty Questions”, c) opening a forum at the Gay/Straight Alliance (so not happening) or d) asking Billy. He wasn’t sure if Billy had any more experience than he did, but Billy’d been out of the closet longer, so therefore had just earned the title of Dave’s Gay Guide.
“Ever use one?” Dave asked, keeping his voice low even though