A Fine Bromance Read online

  They left the administration office elated, and Andy’s smile about split his face.

  During the summer Andy went on hormones to begin his development as a male and had a hysterectomy. The school administrators had decided Andy would use the boys’ bathrooms and would be excused from showering. He knew there would be questions from the other students about that, but he figured he would handle those when they came up.

  Robby pointed Andy in the direction of his homeroom, and before they parted, they exchanged phone numbers and e-mail addresses so they could get in touch about the next meeting of Quiz Kids. “It sure was lucky running into you guys so quickly. You make me feel like I’ve moved to a good school,” Andy said. Robby put out his hand, and they did a fist-bump handshake.

  Chapter 2

  BIOLOGY CLASS was starting when Andy finally found the classroom on the second floor. The teacher, a thin gray-haired woman with a predatory glare, barely registered his intrusion. Andy looked for a vacant seat, and to his pleased surprise found one right next to Robby. He made his way to it, climbed on the stool at the raised table, and nodded when Robby passed him the textbook from a pile near him. He mouthed “Thanks” and turned his attention to the teacher, who was speaking.

  “We won’t be doing much dissecting this year as the emphasis will be on sexuality and genetics. Everything from worms and fruit flies to human biology and genetic diseases. The textbook will prove useful some of the time, but it is, of course, already out of date, so I will be directing you to websites and handouts for the latest topics.” The woman scanned the room. “You all have access to the Internet, I assume?”

  It happened that a few of the students did not. The teacher shook her head and replied, “Well, you’ll have to find a way to access the material I assign you. If you don’t have access yourself, you can use the library’s computers or even the computer lab here at the school. But I am willing to talk to your parents or guardian about the importance of teenagers having access to the Internet. Just let me know.”

  After class was dismissed, Andy turned to Robby and said, “Hey, bro, good to see you again. I didn’t catch the teacher’s name. I suppose it’s on my class assignment list….”

  He looked through the pile of papers he was carrying, but Robby beat him to it. “Mrs. Pollack,” he said.

  Max, who Andy hadn’t noticed sitting in the back of the room, came up behind him and said, “Poll-ock.” Then he smirked and slapped Robby on the back. “Mrs. Poll-ock.”

  Andy gave him a disdainful look.

  “Don’t mind Max. He’s an idiot. He’s on the wrestling team,” Robby said, as if that explained everything.

  Andy nodded.

  Max asked him, “You going out for a sport, Andy? You look like a… well… a chess club member.”

  Rolling his eyes, Andy breathed, “A comedian. Lucky us.”

  Max and Robby exchanged raised eyebrows as they each put their books under one arm and started to walk toward the door. Andy tried to carry his books the same way but had trouble balancing them. He hoped he would get the knack soon.

  The trio passed into the corridor. It was full of students streaming both ways, others gathering by lockers, and still others peering at the small number plates over the classroom doors. “Wait a minute,” Andy said, then consulted his class schedule. “English next, in Room 201.” He looked toward the stairs. “This way.”

  Max made a limp-wristed gesture. “Oh, Mithter Foxth. Lucky you.”

  Glaring at Max, Andy and Robby both shook their heads. “Oh, Max, you’re such a dick,” Robby said.

  “What’s with the gay bashing, Max? You sweet on the man or something?” Andy quipped, feeling like he’d scored one off the bigot.

  “Really, Max. It’s the twenty-first century, you know. Get with the program.” Robby looked at Andy, clearly embarrassed by Max’s comment. “I hope you don’t think we’re all like Max,” he said.

  Andy shook his head. “Glad to hear it.”

  Max, who seemed embarrassed by his own bad behavior, muttered something about having to see a man about a dog and took off down the corridor.

  “What a jerk,” Andy said.

  Robby looked after Max’s departing back. “Yeah, he can be. But he’s just testing the water. I actually think he might be gay himself. He drops a lot of hints. But who knows.”

  Taking another look at his class schedule, Andy said, “Well, maybe I’ll see you at lunch or something. I gotta go.”

  Glancing over Andy’s shoulder, Robby said, “Yeah, you have the same lunch period I do. See you later.” He made an okay gesture with his hand and headed off in the other direction.

  THREE PERIODS later Robby saw Andy in the lunch line. He waited for Andy to get to the till and pay and then called him over to the table where he sat. This time Max wasn’t present, just Luis and their friend Rhonda. He said, “Andy, you met Luis, and this is Rhonda.”

  Andy greeted Robby and Luis and then looked at Rhonda, who made a sour face.

  “And you’re another boy. Great,” she grumbled, her almond-shaped eyes narrowing. She had that disgruntled look some heavyset girls got, something that puzzled Robby, who thought Rhonda looked just fine the way she was.

  Robby and Luis laughed. Luis explained, “Rhonda is the school lesbian. Don’t take it personally.”

  Rhonda gave him an irritated look. “I never said I was a lesbian. I’m just a strong feminist.”

  “Good for you. Me too,” Andy replied, reaching to shake Rhonda’s hand. “Good to meet you, sister,” he said.

  Rhonda eyed him but didn’t reply.

  “So how was English?” Robby asked.

  Andy started to stuff french fries into his mouth. “Okay. We’re gonna read this novel by some guy named Forster. Maurice or something. Maybe Max is right about the teacher. It’s about a boy in some English school who’s sweet on another boy.”

  “I heard of that book. They made a movie too. I think Hugh Grant is in it.” Rhonda started eating her meatballs. “Yuck, these are terrible. What did they make them out of, dog meat?”

  “I’ll eat them,” Robby said, taking Rhonda’s plate and using a fork to push the meatballs onto his own. He already had a ham sandwich on it, half-eaten.

  “Suit yourself,” Rhonda said. She started to get up and gather her things. “Well, since I don’t have anything to eat, I’ll just go to the vending machines. Either of you want anything?”

  Robby and Andy shook their heads. “No, thanks,” they chorused, then looked at each other and laughed.

  “You owe me a Coke,” Andy said and started to count.

  “Stop,” said Robby.

  They sat in silence for a couple of minutes, and then Robby asked Andy, “So why did you move up here from Olympia?”

  Shrugging, Andy answered quickly. “My dad got a job at Microsoft.”

  Robby nodded sagely. “You into computer games?”

  Andy shrugged again. “Not so much. I like computers fine. I just use them for other things.”

  “Me too,” Robby said. “The games are all right, but everyone is so competitive. I just like to look around on Wikipedia, and I watch science and math videos online.”

  “He’s a brainiac,” Luis put in.

  Robby blushed slightly. “Not really. A little, maybe. Not so you’d notice or anything.”

  Andy snorted. “Well, don’t that just beat the Dutch.”

  “Beat… the Dutch?” Robby asked. “I don’t get it.”

  Andy looked surprised he had said that phrase. “Uh, it’s an old expression, from the Civil War. I don’t know what it means. It just means—well—you know.”

  Robby nodded. “Yeah.”

  The two boys each colored a little. Then they both laughed.

  “Guess I’m the history buff,” Andy said sarcastically.

  AFTER SCHOOL Robby got home to an empty house. His mom was still at work, but he didn’t know why his sister was gone. He went to the kitchen to look for something
to eat. The fridge was mostly empty. His sister was always starving herself. His mom tended to bring home takeout. He saw a small container near the back of the top shelf and reached for it. When he opened it, he couldn’t identify what it had been. It smelled rancid. He tossed it in the trash and looked in the cupboards. He found a little cellophane-wrapped package of saltine crackers and ate them, stale as they were.

  He heard the front door open and crash closed. “Claire?” he called.

  His sister poked her head into the kitchen with a sort of euphoric look on her face, like she had just left a royal ball or something. “Oh hey, Bob,” she said.

  He cringed. He hated being called Bob.

  “Hey, did you see that new kid at school today? Annie or Abby or something? Deedee says she’s a dyke. I heard she had to have some special arrangements for using the boys’ shower in gym class.”

  Before Robby could reply, she had gone. He heard her steps on the stairs running up to the level where their rooms were. He thought to himself, Dyke named Annie or Abby? No, he hadn’t met any girls like that. Surely Rhonda would’ve said if there was a new lesbian in class. He kept nibbling on the crackers.

  The telephone rang, and Robby reached for it where it hung on the wall. “Hello?”

  “Robby? Is that Robby?” The voice on the other end was shaky, elderly.

  “Hello, Aunt Ivy. Yes, this is Robby.”

  Ivy was Robby’s eighty-year-old great-aunt, and he was exceedingly fond of her. She was his mother’s great-aunt, actually, and rather frail and nervous. She lived in the area, maybe a twenty-minute drive from his house.

  “Oh, Robby, I’m so glad it’s you.”

  “What’s wrong, Aunt Ivy? You sound upset.” Robby leaned back against the kitchen counter and listened carefully to her faint voice.

  “It’s the captain. I can’t find him. You didn’t come over and take him, did you?”

  Robby thought hard. The captain? What captain?

  “I don’t know what captain you mean, Aunt Ivy,” he said.

  He heard her moan, a thin, warbling sound. “Oh, you know. The captain. The medallion I had of a captain in the navy. I can’t remember his name.”

  That captain! His great-aunt collected all types of memorabilia—figurines, ceramics, jewelry, funny sketches, silverware, snow globes, state crest bells, you name it. He remembered the captain now, a small brass medallion of a man in a captain’s hat, a captain’s uniform, and with a big white moustache, just his head looking right. On the other side were some words saying it was the anniversary of some ship launch.

  “Oh yes, the captain. I know just the one you mean. What do you mean he’s missing?”

  Aunt Ivy sounded a little calmer when she responded. “Yes, the captain of the Houston. He’s just gone. I had him this morning, I think it was, or maybe it was yesterday morning. Right here on the mantel. Now there is just a blank space where he was.”

  Robby put a finger to his lips, thinking. “Could you have moved it?”

  “Him.”

  Robby stopped and asked, “Aunt Ivy?”

  She cleared her throat. “You said ‘it.’ He’s a ‘him.’”

  His eyebrows went up at the correction. “Yes, of course. Him. Could you have moved him?”

  Robby heard a meow in the background behind Ivy’s voice. He knew it was her cat, a big orange tom named Mr. Duck. “The Duck wants your attention.”

  Ivy muttered, “He just wants treats. Now why would I move a thing, dear? This is where he belongs. On the mantel with the model of the ship. Near the glass paperweight of the ship’s wheel. And the commemorative coins of the ships of the line from the Royal Navy. And my little miniature of Admiral William Brown, that Irishman who fought for the Argentines.”

  Robby smiled. His aunt, for all her apparent doddering ways, was sharp as a tack. If he had a fondness for history, it was thanks to her and her massive collection of historically significant artifacts. Many an afternoon and evening he had spent with her, going through her collection. She would lift one from its place of honor and show it to him. He would take it in his hand and admire it while Aunt Ivy told him all about it, what it was, where it came from, and what historical significance it held. He wished he could remember the name of the ship captain on the medallion.

  “Captain Albert H. Rooks,” Ivy said. She had a way of making Robby feel like she could read his mind. “You remember. He commanded the Houston in the Southeast Asian theater in World War II. He went down with his ship in 1942. The medallion was commissioned when he received a posthumous award of honor.”

  Robby mimed a kiss at the receiver of the telephone. Dear Aunt Ivy.

  “Do you want me to come over and help you look for it?” he asked.

  There was a pause, and then the old woman said, “Not tonight, dear. I have my ladies coming over. But how about tomorrow after school? You are still in high school, aren’t you? About three thirty?”

  “Let’s make it four o’clock. That way I won’t be late.”

  Her voice became shaky again. “Oh dear, I do hope you can help me find him. It’s such a dear thing. And the captain was such a handsome man. I can’t imagine what could have become of him.”

  Robby reassured her. “I’ll come over tomorrow afternoon at four, and we’ll look for it. If we have to turn heaven and earth, I’m sure we will find it.”

  “Well, I hope we don’t have to do that. I will see you tomorrow, then. Good-bye.” And she hung up the phone.

  Smiling to himself, Robby thought about going to see his great-aunt. She would probably invite him to dinner. His mother and sister wouldn’t mind. And like every meal he ever had at Ivy’s house, it would be a Banquet frozen chicken pot pie. She loved those pot pies.

  Robby sighed, picked up his books from the kitchen table, tucked them under his arm, and headed up the stairs to his room to study.

  Chapter 3

  “YOU THINK you got a zit?”

  Andy, who had been examining his chin in the boys’ restroom mirror, turned to see Robby at the sink next to him. “Hey, Robby, how ya doing? No, I just was checking to see if my beard is coming in yet.”

  Robby chuckled. He rinsed his hands, reached for a paper towel, and asked, “Is it on your schedule for today?”

  Realizing he’d said something that might lead to difficult questions, Andy reddened. “Uh, no, I do this every day.” He had been on testosterone injections for months now and expected them to result in some beard growth soon. But Robby didn’t know about him being on T, nor should he, so his answer might have seemed odd.

  “Aren’t you kinda young for a beard?” Robby asked.

  “I dunno. But I check. I do have some peach fuzz, and I shaved it so it will come in thicker.” Andy made a mental note to train his mouth not to drop these hints about his transition. All that time spent on Facebook FTM groups must have gotten him too used to sharing. After combing the Internet for other transgender kids, Andy had found a couple of sites, one for FTM—female to male—trans kids and adults. It wasn’t very active, but he’d found a few guys who gave him their own take on social relationships. On Facebook he found more sites for guys like him—in school, basically wondering about the same things he was, but they exhibited some of the confidence he wanted to mirror.

  “Yeah, well, whatever. I can grow a beard, sort of, but I don’t want one. Not yet, anyway.” Robby flashed Andy a broad grin.

  “So what’s the latest on your Aunt Ivy?” Andy asked as they walked toward the exit.

  “It’s really weird. First she couldn’t find a medallion, then a deck of tarot cards went missing. I’m beginning to wonder if she has Alzheimer’s or something.”

  “That sucks,” Andy replied as he reached to push the door open. “Ow!”

  The swinging door flew toward him and made his wrist snap backward. Three boys came into the bathroom, shoving Andy and Robby back into it.

  “Well, look who we have here!” said the lead boy, who had on a black T-shirt wi
th the Black Veil Brides logo on it. His hair was shaved on one side and spiky on the other. He had a chain attached to one earring and then to a stud in his lip. In spite of his slovenly appearance, he was obviously well-off, his clothes and jewelry of high quality. His two companions, both attired as he was but not so expensively, flanked him. One wore shades, the other an openmouthed dull look.

  “It’s the class freaks,” said the first boy.

  Robby scowled. “What do you want, Bradley?” He turned to Andy. “Bradley—better known as Smartass—Grease, and Smack.”

  The boy with the sunglasses, who was apparently Grease, shoved Andy hard in the shoulder. “Yeah, it’s the girl boy.”

  “Or maybe it’s the boy girl,” Smack said, his dull expression not changing.

  Andy eyed the boys cautiously, choosing not to engage them.

  Smartass leveled his eyes on Robby. “You hangin’ out with the freak now?” he asked. “I know you got all manly muscle, but why you want to hang out with this trannie?”

  Robby frowned at the three punks. “Leave him alone.”

  The three boys looked at each other and crowed with laughter. “Him? Why you callin’ her ‘him’? Or don’t you know?” He looked to his friends. “Let’s show Robby what Andrea’s got!”

  The three boys reached for Andy, one grabbing his jacket shoulder, another dragging his pack from his opposite shoulder, and Smartass reaching for his belt.

  Andy watched as Robby stepped forward and shoved Smartass back against the swinging door. “I told you to leave him alone.”

  The other two boys stepped back when their ringleader lost his grip on Andy’s belt. They glared at Robby.

  “What do you want with him, anyway? What’s he ever done to you?” Robby stood with his hands on his hips, glaring at all three.

  Smartass had some trouble regaining his balance as he hit the swinging door and almost fell backward through it. He righted himself and stood facing Robby and Andy with a sneer. “Guess your girlfriend hasn’t shown you her pussy yet.”