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“Aaron? Aaron? Aaron Michael Hotchner!”
“Ma'am?” he took the ear buds out of his ears. Putting Angela’s Ashes face down on his blanket, Hotch focused on his mother as she walked further into his bedroom.
“I swear I have no idea how anyone thirty and under isn’t as deaf as a door nail.” Amelia Preston said, Manassas, Virginia dripping from every word. “How can you be learning and listening to God knows what at the same time?”
“I'm listening to Schubert.” Hotch replied. “Studies show that listening to classical music while reading or studying opens your mind and lets more in.”
Her son had no idea where she’d been all day. Amelia was dressed in a red business dress that just brushed her knees. Her golden blonde hair, never out of place, nearly caressed her shoulders. A rare pair of eyeglasses covered Amelia’s dark green eyes. She was a contact lens woman to the core; she must have been tired.
The few times Hotch described his mother to someone he always called her a cross between Jessica Lange in Everybody’s All American and Joanne Woodward as Eve Black in The Three Faces of Eve. Hotch was fascinated by her, he had been since he was a boy. Amelia was beautiful, smart, savvy, cultured, and quintessentially Southern. When they were married, she and Alexander Hotchner were the toast of Richmond, Virginia.
Now she was the toast of Washington, DC with her new husband. Her son just stood back and watched. Sometimes it was with awe. Other times it was another feeling altogether.
“I need to talk to you about something important.” Amelia said, sitting down on her son’s bed.
“Are you alright?” Hotch sat up. He remembered when he and his father had the same conversation. That time Hotch started it. It ended with Alexander telling him that he had stage 4 lung cancer.
“I'm fine, sweetheart. I ran into Linda Hansen yesterday afternoon; do you remember her?”
“No ma'am.” He shook his head.
“You used to go to school with her daughter, Cherish. We served on the parent-teacher board together. Anyway, she told me that she saw you recently and that you were very close with a young man. I told her that you had many friends.
“She said the situation was more than friendly. She believed that the other boy was a homosexual…said he was dressed like one. Don’t worry love, I know that’s ridiculous. There's no such thing as homosexual clothes.”
“No there isn’t.” Hotch shook his head again. His mind was just trying to register all his mother said. Why was the inane term homosexual clothes standing out? Hotch knew that she’d said more than that.
“We’ve both been so busy lately; haven’t had time to sit and talk together.” Amelia said. “I just want to know that you're alright.”
“I'm OK.”
“Is there a new, special person in your life?”
“Well…”
“You never have to be afraid of being open and honest with me, Aaron.” Amelia gripped his hand. “I gave birth to you. The idea that there's anything that would make me stop loving you is ridiculous. Just don’t become a serial killer or something horrific like that…I have to show my face in this town.”
“Yes ma'am.” Hotch nodded.
“So tell me about him.”
“I don't know if I'm ready yet.”
“Do you love him?” Amelia asked. “And by love I mean the way most 18 year olds love. I was insanely in love with your father at that age. Don’t hold that against me.”
Hotch smirked. His mother always did her best not to say bad things about his father, especially considering how he died. But he’d known for years that the Hotchners had a volatile relationship. Hotch knew about the gambling, the women, the alcohol, and the violence. He’d let his mother get away with the little jabs…Amelia deserved them. It was probably the only way she got through it all.
“I said it and retracted it.” Hotch replied, shocked at his own honesty. “I didn’t want to seem like that awkward boy in his first relationship that falls in love too fast and then crashes and burns. Why am I even telling you this?”
“I'm your mama, and you can tell me anything. That fear isn’t warranted unless he’s a forty year old married man. Don’t ask me how I know that, alright.” Amelia caressed his face. “Oh my sweet Aaron. I just want you to be careful. Always use condoms and call 911 immediately if anyone harasses you. Act with decorum like the man I raised you to be; you'll do just fine. I've never really worried otherwise despite your well-played rebellious phase.”
“I still like girls too.” Hotch blurted out. He didn’t want his mother to think he was just gay. That may have seemed silly since Amelia was taking it all so well. But since the truth was out, it should be the whole truth. Also, the idea of he and his mother becoming “girlfriends” kind of freaked Hotch out. He needed to put the barrier back. “I'm kinda bisexual…attracted to both men and women.”
“So you're saying that you could have another girlfriend in the future?” Amelia asked.
“Yeah, it’s possible.” He nodded.
“Proper English, Aaron Hotchner.”
“Yes ma'am, that’s what I'm saying.”
“Is this a young people thing?”
“Not that I know of.” Hotch shook his head. “There are bisexuals of all ages. It’s not a white rhino.”
“A what?” Amelia raised an eyebrow.
“It’s not as rare as people want to think.” He clarified.
“Alright.” She took a deep breath, leaning to kiss his cheek. “I love you very much. The rest will come in time, as all things do.”
“I'm sorry that you had to hear something like that from Mrs. Hansen. It wasn’t her place to gossip but you should’ve heard it from me.”
“There are a million things I didn’t tell my mother at 18. And you're much more secretive; I don’t know how you keep it all inside. I hope your new friend is someone you can share all of those feelings with. Secrets give you ulcers and wrinkles, Aaron, never forget that.”
“Yes ma'am.” He nodded. “I love you too mama.”
Hotch managed a smile though he felt shattered. This was the last thing he expected tonight, or ever really. It was just like his mother to come from nowhere and knock him off his feet. Amelia Preston was nothing if not a whirling dervish. His father had been an F4 tornado. That’s why Hotch tried to keep his feet planted firmly on the ground and his countenance cool. Someone had to keep the fragile foundation of the family standing when the inevitable storms came.
“Have you had dinner?” Amelia asked, standing from the bed. She smoothed out her dress as if anything were out of place.
“I think I lost track of time with my reading.”
“Eat something, young man. I don’t want you getting lightheaded.”
“I will, mama.”
“I mean it, Aaron.”
“Yes ma'am.”
Amelia blew him a kiss and left the room. Hotch didn’t think he could eat anything, surely it would come back up. His stomach was churning right now. His brain tried to figure out what just happened. He came out to his mother. That meant he came out to his stepfather and possibly his grandparents since Amelia talked to them all on the daily basis.
This was it, and there was no turning back. Who could eat meatloaf or chicken or whatever was down there while dealing with something like that? Who could even breathe while dealing with something like that? Hotch scrambled from the bed and into the bathroom. Whatever he didn’t have on his stomach at the moment was about to make a reappearance.
***
They were gathered around the lunch table on Wednesday afternoon, chatting and eating. The cafeteria was crowded. Some of these kids had to be cutting class. Fifth period lunch was usually pretty lax.
“I think Carl the lunch dude has a thing for me.” Amanda said. “This is like three times the school regulated amount of tater tots. I'm not complaining or anything…just saying.”
“It’s the boobs.” Penelope said.
“I know right; aren't they the best?” Amanda smiled. “Your mom is a total miracle worker.”
“Hey guys,” Elle waved her hand. “Can we get back to me?”
“Right, go on.”
“Scott Miller asked me to be his prom date. I know he's a junior but he's the hottest guy in the junior class. He's top 3 hottest in this place.”
“Top 5 but not top 3.” Amanda said.
“How do you figure?” Elle asked.
“Derek Morgan, Will Hodges, and Rick Ware…top 3.”
“Noooo! Will Hodges is a total douche canoe.” Elle made a face
“We weren’t talking about personality types.” Amanda said. “We were talking about hotness quotient.”
“But his douche bagginess totally spoils his hotness.” Penelope shuddered when she said it.
“Who are your top 3, PG?” Elle asked.
“Let’s not, and just say we did.” The bubbly blonde’s eyes went toward her boyfriend. Kevin was in his own world, reading an indie music magazine.
“I surely know I'm not on this elusive top 10 list.” Kevin looked over the magazine at her. “I'm cool with it.”
“You're totally adorable.” Penelope caressed his face.
“Yes, I am. But I'm no Derek Morgan…everyone knows that. I bring my own charm to the game.”
“Derek is #1.” Penelope said. “Evan Davenport is second, and Clyde Easter rounds out my top 3.”
“Clyde’s hot.” Elle nodded in agreement. “I’d climb him like a tree; not even gonna lie.”
“Hey book boy,” Amanda flicked her hand through Anderson's hair. “We need you to weigh in on this extremely important issue.”
“Huh?” Anderson looked up from Angela’s Ashes.
“Hottest guy in school, not including your man.” Elle said.
“Why wouldn’t I include my man?” Anderson asked. “I'm not the only one who thinks he's hot.”
“Penelope didn’t include hers.”
“Thanks for the reminder.” Kevin barely looked up from his magazine.
“Let’s make this easier.” Amanda said. “Do you think Derek Morgan is the hottest guy in school?”
“Oh yeah. He's just…damn. He’s like the statue of David come to life. The best thing about him is that he's not an asshole like a lot of good looking guys around here. Hotch is #2.”
“Who's #3?” Elle asked.
“Paul Davies.” Anderson said. “Hands down.”
“He's got a thing for Goth boys.” Amanda smirked.
“It’s more than that.” Anderson said. “He's hot but he's also brilliant and well-cultured. Did you know that he's even had some of his epic Gothic poetry published under the name Dante? He's writing songs now too. His stuff is a combination of The Cure and The Doors. It’s really amazing.”
“Have you fucked him?” Elle asked. “You're rambling like you’ve fucked him.”
“We had the most amazing intellectual hook up at Rachel Harding’s birthday party last year. It was life-changing.” Anderson replied.
“What the hell is an intellectual hook up?” Penelope asked. She stole 2 tater tots from Amanda’s plate.
“It’s when someone you find gorgeous usually regales you with stories of how awesome they are and why.” Amanda replied. “And you sit there nodding, smiling, agreeing, and when it’s over you feel like you just came.”
“What she said.” Anderson pointed to Amanda.
“Round out your top 5.” Amanda told him.
“Um…Rick Ware and Clyde Easter. I don’t know who would be 4 or 5. I actually nearly care about lacrosse when I get to watch Rick play. And have you seen his smile, holy hell.” Anderson fanned himself. “Clyde’s got the whole bad boy, but dandy, tea-drinking, accent thing going on.”
“Yes, that’s it!” Garcia exclaimed. “I could never find the words to describe it. Gimme some!”
She and Anderson high fived.
“Well I'm going on Scott’s junior prom.” Elle said. “I'm seriously considering just taking him on my senior prom; let the boys eat that up. I've turned down four guys already. The right ones haven’t asked yet.”
“I thought you were going with Morgan.” Anderson said.
“See, you’ve been so wrapped up in baseball boy…where have you been in my love life. He has a girlfriend now. Savannah’s nice enough so I'm not gonna rain on her parade. Scott won't be a disappointment.”
“His sister Alex is really protective.” Kevin said. “She comes down pretty hard on the parade of girls that make passes at him on the daily basis.”
“I can handle myself.” Elle said smiling. “And I plan to handle Scott. Hey Anderson, you and Hotch are going on prom right?”
The question got everyone’s attention. Anderson felt as if every eye in the cafeteria was on him though that wasn’t possible. He cleared his throat, putting a bookmark in his book. The idea that would be able to read at the lunch table was insane anyway.
“I hadn’t really thought about it.”
“Oh no,” Amanda said. “You thought about it. You just haven’t thought about it. There's a zero discrimination policy here so you can take whoever you want to.”
“I thought you and I were going together, Amanda. We went on junior prom and kinda made that pact.”
“That pact was if we were still single and lonely. No pity dates this year, G.” Amanda said. “You’ve got a really cute boyfriend and I've got a little list that I'm checking twice. The boys who are naughty get stars.”
“I love you.” Penelope said, laughing as she leaned her head on Amanda’s shoulder.
“The tits are giving her confidence.” Elle said. “You go girl!”
“Thank you, thank you.” Amanda smiled.
Anderson knew it wasn’t just the new bras that gave Amanda confidence. Weeks after her father’s attack, the physical wounds had healed. The many wounds right underneath her pale skin would take much longer. The Garcias hadn’t just given Amanda a place to lay her head. They had given her a family.
With them she could totally be herself. There was nothing to hide or be ashamed of. It had only been a month but the changes are evident. Time would heal even more wounds. Anderson hoped she had all the time in the world.
“I really never thought about asking him. Maybe he wants to talk a girl…be normal.”
“Don’t talk like that.” Penelope said. “Anyone in a 20 mile radius knows that Aaron Hotchner is crazy about you. I say just ask him because the answer might surprise you.”
“You're not allowed to sit this out.” Elle said. “It might seem ridiculous now but you don’t want to end up on Dr. Phil in 20 years talking about how not going on the senior prom ruined the rest of your life.”
“No, what I don’t want is for Dr. Phil to exist in 20 years.” Anderson grumbled.
“Hey guys.” Hotch walked over to the table. He had his hands in his pockets.
“Hey!” they all spoke in unison.
“You wanna sit?” Amanda asked. She moved her large satchel bag from the chair next to her.
“No thank you.” he looked at Anderson. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Sure.” Anderson nodded. He threw his book into his backpack and put it on his back. Lunch was nearly over so he wouldn’t make it back there in time. “I’ll see you guys OK.”
They all said goodbye. Amanda slipped a clove into the palm of his hand. She didn’t know what the conversation was about but a little nicotine always helped. Anderson bent and kissed the top of her head, which was covered in a black bob wig. Then he and Hotch walked out of the cafeteria.
“I didn’t expect to see you here. You said you had something to do.” Anderson said.
“I got out of the meeting early. I've decided to sit out my senior baseball season.”
“What?” Anderson looked at him. “Really?”
They walked out of the side door and into a veranda area. It was covered, which was good since it was raining again. The temperature was in the mid-40s today. Usually January was bitterly cold with wind coming off the Potomac. So far this year the temperatures remained above freezing but no one was getting too comfortable.
“I love baseball.” Hotch said. “One of the main reasons I joined the team when I came here was that it gave me something to focus on and keep me out of trouble. I'm not the same person I was all those years ago. I just want to enjoy the rest of my senior year. That’s all I want to focus on right now.”
“Do you wanna go on the prom on me?” Anderson asked. He rushed the words out of his throat; wasn’t even sure if it was English.
“What?”
The look on Hotch’s face told him that it probably some combination of Klingon and Romanian. Anderson wasn’t fluent in either one of those languages.
“Do you want to go on the prom…together?”
“Yes.” Hotch nodded.
“Cool.” Anderson smiled, nodding. He also sighed but tried to hide that. This was easier than he thought it would be. That meant something else was coming.
“My mom knows I'm bisexual and that you're my boyfriend.”
And there it was. With the smile still on his face, Anderson pulled a lighter from the back pocket of his maroon slim-cut slacks. He put the clove in his mouth. Hotch took the lighter from his hand, cupped it in his own, and lit it. Anderson took a deep inhale. He was surprised when Hotch took the clove from him and did the same. Who knew Aaron could inhale.
“Was boyfriend the word she used?” Anderson asked when the clove was back in his possession.
“She asked if there was someone special in my life. Apparently one of her friends saw us together and thought we looked intimate.”
“Damn, I knew our undeniable sexual heat would come back to bite us in the ass. Did she freak out?”
“No.” Hotch shook his head. “The whole thing was so surreal; I hardly remember the dialogue. I was honest with her and I was so glad that I could be. My stepfather probably knows now too. I'm sure he told her about the tickets.”
“I'm proud of you.” Anderson took his hand. “I would be even if we didn’t have a thing. You’ve taken some big strides these past few months.”
“I can't say I would’ve ever taken them without you. Anything interesting happening in your life right now?’
“I don’t wanna brag,” Anderson replied. “But I'm taking a real babe on the prom. Odds are high in my favor for getting laid.”
“Very high.” Hotch leaned in close. He'd never kissed anyone in public before. For one of the first times in his life, Aaron didn’t care who saw or what they thought. “As high as the sky actually.”
“It’s important to me to be adored for more than my seductive body, as awesome as it may be.”
Anderson took one last puff of the clove, plucking it out into the wet grass. He put his hands on Hotch’s hips and stepped into his personal space.
“If this was a John Hughes movie and you're Andrew McCarthy, then who does that make me?” Hotch asked. “What song is playing in the background right now?”
“I'm not Andrew in a Hughes film…I'm his character in St. Elmo’s Fire. It was written and directed by Joel Schumacher. The film bears the distinction of being one of the last where the entire Brat Pack was together, though Molly Ringwald wasn’t in it. The Pack was growing up and though there would be later films in the 80s with certain members, St. Elmo’s Fire…”
Hotch made him stop talking with a kiss. He loved listening to Anderson talk. If there was anything the teen liked to talk about more than the FBI and serial killers, it was movies. And he kept the serial killer talk to a minimum because he never wanted Hotch to think he was weird. But right now Hotch just wanted to kiss. He wanted to feel Anderson's mouth against his and not think about telling his parents he was taking a boy on the prom. He wanted to think about Andrew McCarthy and kickass 80s music playing and that feeling of absolute giddiness when you know you're with the right person even if you don’t know anything else at all.
“You're not any of them.” Anderson whispered, caressing Hotch’s face as their lips came apart.
“What do you mean?”
“You're not Rob Lowe, Emilio Estevez, Anthony Michael Hall or any of them…you're something else altogether.”
“Does this mean I get to be Molly Ringwald?” Hotch asked. “I can't say I'm completely opposed to that.”
“Shut up and kiss me again, Aaron Hotchner.”
***