Conventionally Yours (True Colors 1)

Chapter Eight

Alden

I was done with back-seat riding before we reached our first stop. My anxiety kept spiking because I wasn’t remotely in control, and I wasn’t sure I trusted Conrad to get us there in one piece. Of course, thanks to Mimi and Mom I had pharmaceutical options for the jittery feeling that no amount of quiet breathing would relieve, but I hated taking them when I knew I had to drive later. That was the thing about anxiety—worries over whether to take the medication and when could be worse than the primary symptoms sometimes. But my current situation wasn’t that usual garden-variety dithering over when to take a pill. No, my pulse was pounding because Conrad kept missing interchanges and didn’t seem that fazed by it.

Nothing threw him or changed his affable demeanor, not even almost crossing back into New Jersey. He and Jasper kept joking around with the GPS, which led to even more confusion. Finally, though, we were heading back out of the city proper, its collection of tall buildings behind us, morning sun fully up, but sky gray and hazy.

“Not sure why I always seem to flub the exits downtown. Guess my brain wants to head to the clubs like old times.” Conrad’s laugh was as attractive as the rest of him, warm and sweet like maple syrup, but his words had me bristling.

“Didn’t you just turn twenty-one? Like two months ago?”

“I maybe had an ID. And not all the gay clubs in Washington Square look that closely.”

“I wouldn’t know.” I let my scorn cover any other inconvenient emotions like regret or longing.

“As in you waited until you were twenty-one before you went out? Or as in you’ve never been?” Jasper turned around in his seat to gape at me.

“Parties are not a requirement of college life.” That longing was back, sharper now, a distinct wish to be casual like them, able to turn up at events and parties and find friendly faces without much effort. I tried hard never to let myself dwell on those sorts of feelings, and frustration over my emotions came out in my tone.

“You’re missing—”

“Leave it, Jasper.” Conrad kept his head facing the road, but I could almost hear his eye roll. “If it’s not an extracurricular for the ol’ résumé, Alden wants no part of it. He’s the only one who shows up just for the Safe Space business meetings and never for the social stuff.”

No way was I telling him that I only went to the Safe Space meetings to keep Mimi’s nagging at a minimum and that the special events, particularly the unstructured gatherings, tended to require skills for interacting I simply didn’t have. Not to mention triggering my anxiety. But note-taking and voting on new rules and initiatives, that, I could do. I went to exactly enough meetings to satisfy Mimi and tried not to regret the lack of filter I’d had as a little kid, talking about “my husband” around the time that Mom had Mimi move in. I hadn’t known better and had simply assumed that adult people got to pair up as they saw fit.

Fast-forward a bunch of years, and I knew the truth—there was no pairing up for me, no knight riding in to make me believe in soul mates again—but the whole “husband” phase had lit a fire under Mimi and Mom to get me in every rainbow-clad activity they could find. So yeah, I showed up at the meetings to work while kids like Conrad lounged around, picking up their next conquest as easily as shuffling a deck of freshly sleeved cards. And if I couldn’t even make small talk at those meetings, there wasn’t any hope for me at a gay nightclub, and I knew it.

So, I let Conrad speak for me, let it seem I was just too studious and stuck-up to be bothered with partying. Neither of the other two was ever going to understand me, and there wasn’t much point in trying. Instead, I focused on the suburbs flashing by, gradually turning into farther-spread-out towns until our first stop, a little over three hours in, when Jasper began complaining about being hungry and Conrad started looking for a gas station.

“All the signs for Hershey make me remember this one time when my folks brought all of us to tour the factory and go to the amusement park.” Jasper gestured out the window at one of the many billboards we’d passed. “You guys ever go?”

“With my sisters. And school groups.” I wasn’t really much on field trips like that, but they already thought I was some sort of anti-fun prude, so I wasn’t about to elaborate, instead adding a lame “It was all right.”

“I’ve been once. On the way to freshman orientation, when my folks drove me out.” Conrad’s voice was distant. “This exit look good?”