Eventide

Half

Louis McCallister was tired of being half.

He was half black and half white, and most days he wished he was just one or the other. He was just “black” enough to seem different to his white family, and but not “black” enough to fit in with actual black people. Somehow, this bled into other parts of his life. He was gay, but he didn’t act gay. His whole life, he was not too black, not too gay, and not too offensive. Straight white people could keep him around because he was enough like them to be considered a friend, but different enough to get them brownie points for being woke.

Being half meant you didn’t belong to either group, so you had to settle.

“What is it you’re thinking so hard about, amigo?” Santiago asked him.

Louis suddenly remembered where he was, and the party came crashing down on his shoulders. The rap music playing in the background, the yelling and talking that melted together, the beer in his hand, the people surrounding him. Louis was leaning against a wall.

“Did you hear me, niño?” Santiago asked. Santiago didn’t actually speak Spanish - he was fully Hispanic, yet somehow a half like Louis. His father had been too lazy to teach him Spanish, and his mother spoke only English because her parents were also lazy. By using Spanish in a wildly incorrect way, Santiago was getting back at both his parents and the white idiots who acted like it was a crime he only spoke one language. Louis often wondered if it was also a way to make him feel like less of a half.

“Yeah, I heard you,” Louis said, looking at Santiago. “Sorry. I keep telling the boys that I’m pensive when buzzed.”

“Pensive?” Santiago asked.

“You know, like, thoughtful,” Louis said, looking around for Nathan. “Let’s go find them?”

Santiago agreed, so the two of them made their way through the crowds to where they last saw him. The two found him halfway there.

Louis remembered Nick’s description of Nathan - “every gay kid’s straight wet dream” - and secretly agreed. Nathan was the epitome of the straight bro stereotype, the kind that invaded all of Louis’ favorite porns. “Nah bro, it’s not gay if I let you suck me off. As long as we keep it to ourselves, right?”

Nathan was white, had perfectly styled blond hair and bright green eyes. His typical outfits consisted of pale pastel-colored seafarers and button ups of the same colors. Despite his lack of fashion sense, Louis still found him incredibly attractive. It was because despite how much he acted and looked like a dudebro, he was undeniably sweet. When Louis came out, Nathan wasn’t shocked or hurt at all. He accepted him.

Nathan was chatting up a girl. Abraham and Kane were nearby, silently cheering him on like loyal frat brothers.

The girl looked uncomfortable. Shit. Louis knew that look. Nathan was striking out.

A secret traitorous part of him was cheering. Not that Nathan failing to land a girl would make him suddenly gay, but Louis couldn’t make that small beam of hope go away.

The girl tried to get away, but Nathan put his arm in front of her. Damn. Louis knew he must have been desperate or drunk, maybe both.

Nathan inched closer, and the girl inched back.

Do something. He told himself. Nathan was going too far. Stop him. That girl looks terrified.

But Louis couldn’t move. He felt like half of him was over there, while half of him was rooted to his spot.

“Pigs,” Santiago muttered. “They’ll do anything to get laid. At least I don’t have to worry about that with you anymore, right?”

Louis nodded, hating himself and Santiago. And even Nathan.