Jeremy nodded tensely. “Okay.” His shoulders were practically up around his ears.
“Hey, you don’t have to do anything. We can just have fun. Hang out. You don’t have to hook up with anyone.”
“Right. I know.” Jeremy fiddled with his glasses.
“Can you see okay?”
“It’s fine. Just a little fuzzy compared to my newest prescription. But I’m not blind like I would be without them. Thanks again for helping me. You’ve been great. You don’t have to do all this.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, rocking on his socked feet.
“Well, ‘all this’ has been awesome. I like hanging with you. You’re cool.”
Jeremy rolled his eyes. “I am not cool.”
“Are too. I’m cool, so I should know.”
Jeremy laughed begrudgingly at that. “Okay.”
They headed out—Jeremy wearing his new in-between boots and peacoat—and Max in a similar outfit, except he wore a casual red button-up over his jeans. They hopped on the subway and walked down to the Village from Bloor, not bothering to change lines to go one stop to Wellesley. It was just under the freezing mark, so crisp and a bit icy, but not too cold.
Buddies was at the south end of the Village and back toward Yonge Street where they’d gotten off the subway, but Max wanted to take Jeremy down Church Street through the heart of the action. Even though Toronto was queer-friendly all over, Church and Wellesley was the classic gay area. It was, like, historic and shit.
Glad Day was on the other side of Church as they headed south, and Max pointed to it. “Oldest queer bookstore in the world. It started in the seventies and used to be on Yonge. Now it has a cafe and bar area at the front. They do trivia nights and events. It’s a cool spot.”
Jeremy nodded, gazing around like a total tourist, but in an adorable way. There were groups of people on the sidewalks, some smoking outside bars and restaurants. Max motioned to Woody’s across the street. “Woody’s is famous too. Been around a long time, and it was on that show Queer as Folk. You ever watch it? Super white and not great on trans rep, but it has some good stuff. Some hot sex scenes.”
“I’ve seen a lot of clips. I was afraid to stream it for real since my parents would check what I watched on Netflix and stuff. Somehow they never paid much attention to YouTube.” He glanced around. “This is right where they filmed it. Justin going out for the first time. Meeting Brian.”
“Yep. At least you’re nineteen, so if you want to hook up with some thirty-year-old, you’re allowed. Dunno if I recommend it, though.”
Jeremy grinned. “I think Brian would say he was twenty-nine.”
“Oh yeah, he definitely would.” Max laughed. “That show is old, but some stuff holds up.”
They walked on, the muffled music from a drag show in Crews & Tangos spilling out onto the street, laughter and shouts echoing. Jeremy gazed all around. “I should have come here months ago. It’s all just…right here. In the open.”
“Victoria’s a small city, but it must have a queer scene?”
“Yeah, but I never got up the nerve.”
Max loved the smile lighting up Jeremy’s face as he watched two men holding hands pass by. Then Max stupidly blurted, “Are your parents really anti-gay? Is that why you were so nervous? Why you don’t really talk to them?”
Of course, Jeremy’s smile vanished, the lightness in his step disappearing. He shoved his hands in his coat pockets and looked down at the salty sidewalk. “They’re not totally, but… It’s complicated.”
“Sorry. Shit, I’m an asshole. I shouldn’t have brought that up. Curiosity got the better of me.”
“It’s okay.”
“No. Forget I mentioned it, okay? Let’s have fun. Turn right here. We should rub the ass for luck.”
“Uh, what?”
They rounded the corner onto Alexander Street to find the bronze statue atop a thick square pedestal with a plaque explaining who Alexander Wood was and that he’d lived from 1772 to 1844. The guy in the statue was well dressed, with a hat and gloves in his hand, a walking stick, neat bow tie, and nice boots.
Max said, “He was pretty controversial. He was a magistrate and I guess there were rumors he was gay. When he was investigating an attack on a woman, he inspected men’s dicks looking for a scratch that was supposed to be the smoking gun.”
Jeremy dropped his gaze from the statue to Max, eyes widening. “Uh, what?”
“Come around the other side.” Max led the way around the statue to the plaque on the back side of the pedestal. A plaque that depicted Wood on his knees checking out a soldier’s junk. The soldier’s pants were down, so his bare ass was there in bronze. And compared to the rest of the plaque and statue itself, it gleamed.
“That’s…” Jeremy motioned with a gloved hand. “Not what I expected.”
“Pretty weird, huh?”
“Do I have to rub the ass?”
Max laughed. “Nope. Come on. Buddies is down here.”
Not far down Alexander Street, the theater sat beside a parkette where a few people smoked. A poster out front advertised O Blasphemous Night. Inside, the space was divided into different sections, with the DJ playing holiday remixes in the main space that was like a small warehouse with a bar and an upstairs. Glittery decorations adorned every metal railing and Christmas disco balls reflected merrily.
Like Max had hoped, it was a mixed crowd. They’d checked their coats, and Jeremy had his hands in the pockets of his skinny jeans as he looked around nervously. A couple of girls made out by the staircase, and Jeremy smiled to himself as he watched them.
“You can relax here,” Max said. “Be yourself.”
“Yeah.” Jeremy gave him a strangely sad little smile. “If only I knew who I was.”
“Dude, that’s the whole point of university. I mean, yes, also the book learning, but you’re nineteen. You don’t have to have everything figured out yet.”
“I guess not. You do though.”
Do I? “Come on, let’s get a drink. This isn’t supposed to be my therapy session.”
“Just mine? We can take turns.” Jeremy smiled, then put his hand on Max’s forearm, his expression earnest. “But if you do want to talk about it, I’m happy to listen.”
For a moment, Max was sorely tempted to unload it all on Jeremy and get his advice, but no. That would be a dick move. “Thanks,” he said, just as seriously. They smiled softly at each other, and Max was very aware of the light pressure of Jeremy’s hand. Then someone jostled them as a throng of people passed by, and Max realized they were standing there smiling at each other like goofs, and maybe this was what Honey was talking about.
He shook himself. “I’ll get the first round. You want a beer or something else?”
“Well, only if it’s craft beer.”
Max laughed. “Rickard’s coming right up.”
He actually went with Moosehead since that’s what Jeremy had offered him in his room. They drank their bottles and half-shouted a conversation about football as the music got louder, more people crowding the dance floor.
“Wanna dance?” Max asked. “I mean, I’m sure you’re fascinated by the differences between the NFL and CFL, but you’ve humored me long enough.”