Everyone greeted Matt with shouted Happy Birthdays and sang the song with gusto.
He blew out the candles on a cake that served dual purposes: Happy Birthday/Congratulations (in expectation that he had won his election).
He beamed with happiness. It was 6:00 p.m., and these were the first birthday wishes he’d received. He hadn’t expected anyone to know it was his birthday, hadn’t moped about no one’s mentioning it, but had felt the absence all the same—like a tongue exploring the hole where a tooth had been.
He had expected either a card or phone call from his parents.
Nada.
William introduced Matt to the two other members: Kevin and Harley.
Kevin was a short, soft-spoken, gentle kid.
Harley was the Okie version of boy-next-door. He was beefy, barrel chested, thick legged, pudgy faced. He looked like the kind of kid who bullied the Kevins and Todds of the world for sport, but his toothy smile betokened kindness.
Luke cut the birthday/congratulations cake and served it up on little dessert plates.
Todd filled drink orders.
Everyone settled into seats—either on the couch or side chair or one of the dining chairs that had been dragged into the living area.
Luke sat on the floor in front of the oversized side chair in which Evan sat, his shoulders wedged between Evan’s knees. Were they a couple?
Matt listened to the laughter and conversation around him. These guys seemed to genuinely like each other. (Dare he say love each other?) Nor did they hold him at arms-length or remand him to some junior, less-than status—as most groups would do. They pulled him into their conversations,filled him in on back stories and inside jokes. They asked him questions and listened to his answers. This truly was a Happy Birthday!
William presented Matt with a key—his own key to the clubhouse.
Then William retrieved a 3-ring binder from a drawer in the entertainment center behind him. “These are the club rules, dahling,” he said. “Read them. Memorize them. There will be a test.”
Harley, who was sitting on the couch beside Matt, leaned over and said in a stage whisper, “There is no test, dahling.”
Everyone laughed—even William. They were that kind of group.
William held up a hand. “Okay ladies. We must get serious for a bit.”
The room quieted immediately.
In what other world, Matt wondered, could a skinny, femme guy like William command such respect? And what was the deal with acting like they were all girls?
“First,” William said, “This shouldn’t surprise you, given recent events: Gay Chapel is Wednesday. That’s not common knowledge. I heard the news from an inside source.”
Everyone groaned, which cued Matt that this wasn’t a good thing. No sodomy in the pews. No rainbow flags.
“What’s Gay Chapel?” he asked.
Kevin answered. “You know how the ancient Romans used to toss Christians to the lions and sit around and cheer while the lions had a snack?”
Matt nodded.
“It’s kind of like that, except with fags.”
Matt had been enjoying his birthday cake but set it aside on the coffee table. He’d lost his appetite for celebration.
William nodded grimly. He looked at Matt. “This will be your first one. You’ll feel like all eyes are on you. In a way they will be. Everyone will be sizing up their neighbors, looking for closet cases. Try not to crack. If you do, you’re toast at MCU, loved and hugged right out the door.”
Harley tapped Matt’s arm. “You gonna eat that?” he asked, pointing to Matt’s leftover cake on the coffee table.
Matt shook his head, decided maybe the moment deserved some levity. “It’s all yours, dahling!”
