Is He Or Isn't He? Read online

  “What are you doing out so late on a Friday night?” Roger asked as he unlocked the front door and let Anthony inside.

  Anthony clutched his rapidly beating heart. “I could ask you the same question. You scared me!”

  “Sorry,” Roger apologized. “I was doing inventory in the stock room and then I was going to give the place a fast sweep before going home. I wanted to see if it was still raining outside. That’s why I pressed my face against the window. I certainly didn’t expect you to be on the other side of it!”

  Anthony shook the excess water off his umbrella before closing it and walking inside. “I went down to Film Forum,” he said. “You know, the revival house? They’re showing horror movies from the ’60s and ’70s.”

  “I’ve been meaning to check that out.”

  Anthony was surprised. “You have?”

  “I love those movies. They’re so creepy. So much better than the horror movies made today with those indestructible killers. What are they up to now? Friday the 13th Part 13? Halloween Part 9? Gimme a break! What’s the point of seeing them? You know the killer is going to survive to come back in another sequel.”

  “You’re so right!”

  “What did they show tonight?”

  “Rosemary’s Baby.”

  Roger’s face lit up. “That’s one of my favorites.”

  “Mine, too! I don’t know about you, but whenever I’m watching that movie, I feel like I can’t breathe. There’s such a great sense of paranoia. Is she really pregnant with the devil’s baby, or is she just nuts?”

  “Did you know they actually filmed it on the Upper West Side at the Dakota?”

  “Of course I do! Hello! You’re talking to a future filmmaker.”

  “Oh. Cool! Well, what was the deal with those horror movies in the ’70s?” Roger asked, walking back to the stockroom and picking up the pad he’d been making notes on. Anthony followed after him. “Did you ever notice how they all had to do with the devil?”

  “Yes!” Anthony exclaimed, getting excited. He loved talking about movies. “There was The Exorcist, The Omen and Beyond the Door. What I like about them is that everything is left to your imagination. You imagine the horror instead of seeing tons of blood and guts on the screen like what’s done today. What your imagination can come up with is way scarier than anything a director can shoot.”

  “And then there are those TV horror movies from the ’70s,” Roger said.

  “‘Satan’s School for Girls!’” Anthony shouted.

  “‘Let’s Scare Jessica to Death!’” Roger shouted back.

  “‘Trilogy of Terror!’” Anthony and Roger exclaimed at the same time.

  “I didn’t know you were such a film buff,” Anthony said.

  “There’s a lot of stuff you don’t know about me,” Roger said, scribbling on his pad before shutting off the light in the stockroom.

  That was true. Anthony really didn’t know much about Roger other than that he worked at the Frosted Cupcake and was a babe magnet.

  “You’re right,” Anthony said. “We should rent some scary DVDs and watch them one night.”

  “That sounds cool.”

  “I should let you finish cleaning up.”

  “You can hang out if you want,” Roger said. “It makes the time go faster when you have someone to talk to.”

  “I could help out.”

  “You wouldn’t mind?”

  “I wouldn’t offer if I did.”

  “Okay. Thanks. You can just flip the chairs upside down on the tables. Then I’ll run around with a broom and we’ll be out of here.”

  While Anthony turned over the chairs, he and Roger talked. He found out that Roger had three younger sisters and lived only a few blocks away from the Frosted Cupcake. He hadn’t decided where he wanted to go to college, but he was hoping he might win a scholarship to NYU.

  “It would be nice to stay in the neighborhood, you know? And my parents can’t really afford to send me away to school.”

  “My brother’s a sophomore at NYU and he loves it.”

  “Are you thinking of going there?”

  Anthony shook his head. “I want to go to UCLA. They have a great film program.”

  Roger slapped himself on the forehead. “Duh. That’s right. You’re the next Spielberg.”

  “Let’s hope so! And you? Do you want to be a designer?”

  “I don’t know. I do like clothes and working with different kinds of fabrics, and I’ve made myself a few things, like shirts, but I don’t know if I have the talent to become a designer that everyone would want to wear.”

  “You’ll never know unless you try.”

  “True, true.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Roger had finished sweeping up the bakery. “That’s it. We’re all set. Ready to go?”

  As they walked back outside, Anthony realized something. He never really hung out with straight guys. He didn’t have anything against them and he had lots of straight male friends at school, but most of his close friends were female. Paige. Colleen. Bianca and Rachel. He just found it easier hanging out with them.

  But hanging out with Roger had been fun.

  “I was serious about the DVDs,” Anthony said as he opened up his umbrella and caught sight of an available taxi headed his way. “Taxi!” he called out.

  “Just let me know when and where,” Roger said. “You know where to find me.”

  The next morning the weather wasn’t any better than the night before. Paige woke up to the sound of heavy raindrops hitting the roof.

  “Am I hearing what I think I’m hearing?” Paige asked.

  “You are,” Colleen groaned from her bed across the room. Bianca and Rachel were in the guest room overlooking the garden at the front of the house while Max was staying in Paige’s father’s room across the hall.

  “So much for Operation Hamptons,” Paige said, knowing she wouldn’t be wearing the skimpy outfits she’d brought. It was going to be another day of oversized sweaters and jeans.

  “How about we console ourselves with a big country breakfast?” Colleen suggested. “I’ll do the cooking.”

  Thirty minutes later, the kitchen was filled with the fragrant scents of hash browns, bacon, sausage, eggs, waffles, coffee and freshly squeezed orange juice. Bianca and Rachel were still sleeping, as was Max, but Paige and Colleen fixed themselves heaping plates and sat down at a table in the sun room, gazing out at a wet, sunless day.

  “What should we do today?” Colleen asked.

  “Unless the weather improves, we’re stuck inside. We’ve got DVDs that we can watch and there’s a bunch of board games.”

  “Oooh! Monopoly! I get to be the little doggie! And when we play Clue, I want to be Mrs. Peacock. She was a full-figured gal.”

  “We can also make cookies and brownies.”

  “There’s also the hot tub,” Colleen reminded Paige. “That could take up a couple of hours. Why don’t you go turn it on so it’s all bubbling by the time Max comes down for breakfast.”

  “Great idea!”

  “And maybe while you and Max are soaking, the twins and I will go on a shopping spree, leaving you and Maxie with a little alone time.”

  “Don’t you dare!” Paige warned.

  “Anthony would be so disappointed.”

  “Not if he doesn’t know!”

  Paige headed out onto the deck where she pulled the tarp off the top of the tub and then reached for the switch that would begin heating the water.

  But when she flipped the switch, nothing happened.

  The motor for the hot tub didn’t come on.

  The water remained still.

  Paige tried the switch again and again, waiting for the bubbles to start appearing.

  “What’s taking so long?” Colleen called out.

  “It’s not working.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me,” Paige said, trying not to panic. “The hot tub isn’t working!”

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  Anthony woke up to the sound of buzzing.

  At first the sound was so low and soft, he really didn’t pay any attention to it. He just turned his head on his pillow and nestled deeper under the sheets.

  But then the buzzing got louder.

  And louder.

  Anthony swatted at the air with a hand, his eyes still closed. How had a fly gotten into his bedroom? But this really didn’t sound like a fly. It sounded more like…

  Anthony’s eyes popped open in horror as he realized what the sound was.

  “Morning, Ants!”

  Sitting on the side of his bed, holding his electric hair clipper in one hand, was Paolo.

  “What are you doing in here?” Anthony gasped, scurrying against the headboard of his bed. “And why do you have that thing? I thought we were over our fight.”

  “Oh we are, we are,” Paolo said, waving the vibrating clipper. “I just wanted to have a little chat.”

  Anthony kept his eyes glued on the hair clipper. “A chat?”

  Paolo nodded. “Uh-huh. See, a couple of the guys are coming over tonight. We’re going to have a poker game.”

  “What does that have to do with me?”

  “I want you to make yourself scarce tonight. Disappear. Vanish. I want the place to myself. Go hang out at Paige’s place.”

  “I can’t.”

  Paolo gave his brother a look of disbelief, lunging with the clipper. “What did you say?!”

  Anthony screamed and threw his hands over his head. “Don’t cut my hair! Paige is out of town. She went to her house in the Hamptons. But don’t worry, I won’t hang around tonight. I swear!”

  “How come you didn’t go with her? Are you guys fighting?”

  “She’s having a romantic weekend.”

  “A romantic weekend?” Paolo asked, switching off the clipper. “With who?”

  “Max.”

  Paolo’s eyes widened in shock. “Max?! What is she, crazy? She hardly knows anything about this guy and she goes off alone with him?” Paolo jabbed a finger in Anthony’s chest. “And you let her! I bet this was your idea, wasn’t it? All part of your stupid, ‘Is he or isn’t he?’ scheme.”

  “No! It wasn’t my idea! It was Paige’s,” Anthony explained, rubbing his chest.

  “Stop being such a baby. I barely tapped you.”

  “And she didn’t go alone with Max. Colleen, Rachel and Bianca went with her.”

  “That’s a relief.”

  Anthony looked at his brother suspiciously. “Why do you care who Paige spends the weekend with?”

  “I don’t.”

  “Then why did you flip out when you heard she’d gone away with Max?”

  “I didn’t flip out.”

  “Yes, you did,” Anthony stubbornly insisted.

  “Unlike you, baby bro, I was once a straight high school boy and—”

  “We still don’t know if he’s gay or straight!” Anthony interrupted.

  “And I know how they think,” Paolo continued. “Especially when they’re around pretty girls like Paige.”

  “You think Paige is pretty?”

  “Am I blind?”

  “I’ve just never heard you mention it.”

  “Why would I?”

  Anthony shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  Paolo got up from the bed. “So, are we clear about tonight? I get the penthouse to myself and you get to keep your bouncing and behaving hair.”

  “I’ll be gone by six. Is that early enough?”

  “Perfect.”

  Anthony watched as Paolo left his bedroom. A thought had popped into his mind, but it was so outrageous, so over the top, that he ignored it. For just a second, he had thought Paolo was jealous of Max being alone with Paige, but why would he feel that way? Paolo barely got along with Paige and was always bickering with her. It had to be his overactive imagination. Yes, that’s what it was. His overactive imagination. He wouldn’t even mention it to Paige. She’d just laugh at him.

  “What do you mean it’s not working?” Colleen asked, joining Paige out on the deck where the hot tub was.

  “Just what I said. When I turn it on, nothing happens.”

  “Maybe you should call your father.”

  “Good idea.”

  Paige went to her room to get her cell phone. Ten minutes later, she was back in the kitchen, a frown on her face.

  “Uh-oh,” Colleen said, looking up from the maple syrup she was pouring over her waffles. “You don’t look happy.”

  “The hot tub isn’t working. It needs to be fixed.”

  “Fixed? You mean it’s broken?”

  “Yep.”

  “Why didn’t your father tell you?”

  “Why would he? He didn’t think I’d be using it. I’d also like to mention that he didn’t seem too thrilled that I wanted to use it.”

  “No!”

  “Yes.” Paige sat back down at the table and began nibbling on a sausage link.

  “After all, I’m still his little girl. Soaking in the hot tub with my girlfriends is fine. But with a guy? I think he was remembering his bachelor days and the wild times he used to have. At least that was the vibe I was getting.”

  “Maybe you should call Camille. She’d be thrilled.”

  Paige took a sip of her orange juice. “You know who’s not going to be thrilled? Max. I promised him a weekend with a hot tub. Now the hot tub’s not working. He’s going to think I lured him out here under false pretenses.”

  “I’m sure he’ll understand. Max doesn’t seem like the type to hold a grudge.”

  “You think?”

  Colleen shrugged. “We’ll have to wait and see.”

  Max arrived in the sun room ten minutes later. After he had fixed himself a plate, Paige told him about the hot tub.

  “It’s broken?” he said. “There’s no chance of fixing it?”

  Paige couldn’t help but notice that he looked like a disappointed little boy on Christmas morning who didn’t find any presents under his tree.

  “I’m really sorry. My dad didn’t think I’d be using it. That’s why he didn’t mention it wasn’t working.”

  “Oh.”

  And that was all Max said. He didn’t say anything else.

  “I feel awful about this,” Paige apologized.

  Max shrugged, pushing away his plate. “So what are we supposed to do with the rest of our time?”

  He was mad. She could tell, but he was trying not to let it show. Paige didn’t understand people like that. If there was a problem, she liked getting things out in the open and discussing it.

  “Once the twins are up, we’ll make a game plan,” Colleen said. “We’re going to have a blast this weekend!”

  “I guess,” Max sighed, taking a sip of his orange juice.

  Paige studied Max across the table. What was going on with him? Last night he’d shown zero interest in her. Yes, it had been a long drive, but had Max really been so tired that he needed to go to bed at ten o’clock?

  Or had he not wanted to be alone with her?

  Maybe he didn’t have romance on his mind the way she did. Maybe he had just been looking forward to a weekend in the Hamptons with four girls.

  Hanging out with them in a hot tub, of course.

  She could just imagine that story making the rounds in the boys’ locker room at Peppington Prep. If Max was straight, he’d instantly bond with the other guys. If he was gay—and pretending to be straight—well, telling all the other guys about his weekend would make them think he was one of them.

  Max came out ahead either way.

  But the hot tub was broken and the bottom line was that Max was disappointed.

  How could she fix things?

  She needed some outside assistance. When the twins finally arrived in the sun room, Paige slipped into the bathroom and called Anthony on her cell phone.

  “How’s the weekend going?” Anthony asked.

  “It’s not. If you look out your window, you can
see it’s raining. It’s freezing up here and I’m wearing nothing but shapeless sweaters and jeans. So much for the teeny skirts and halter tops and bikinis that I had planned to wear. Oh, and the hot tub is broken.”

  “Hmmm. This does present a challenge,” Anthony said. “How to show off the goods when the goods are heavily under wraps? What’s on the agenda for today?”

  “Board games. DVDs. Maybe some baking.”

  “Any card games?”

  “Probably. Why?”

  “You could always play strip poker.”

  “I don’t know how to play poker. And even if I did, I wouldn’t!”

  “Okay, what if you come out of the bathroom wrapped only in a towel and then accidentally drop it.”

  “So he can see me naked?! Absolutely not!”

  “You’re not making this easy for me, Paige.”

  “Come on, Anthony. Think! I know you can come up with something.”

  “We need to get the two of you alone in a situation that appears innocent but has an undercurrent of sexual tension. But what?” There was silence at the other end of the line. “I’ve got it! It’s a little bit obvious but it could work, especially if he is straight. I can’t think of a straight guy not being flattered by this.”

  “What? What?”

  “You should accidentally walk into his bedroom in the middle of the night. Pretend you woke up for a glass of water and on the way back to your room, still half-asleep, you went through the wrong door.”

  “And then?”

  “Do I have to spell everything out for you?” Anthony huffed. “Isn’t it obvious? Fall into his bed! What else?”

  Paige laughed. “I suppose it could work. But what’s it going to prove?”

  “Paige, honey, trust in biology. If Max is straight and you fall into his bed, you’ll know if he’s interested or not. Especially if you extend the encounter. You know, act dazed and con, fused. Touch him. Press yourself against him. Don’t be so quick to jump out of his bed.”

  “I guess it could work,” Paige reluctantly admitted.

  “Trust me, it will. But one more piece of advice.”