Marie Sexton - Coda 02 - A to Z by Marie Sexton

and said, “I never been anywhere except clubs that it felt okay to be queer.” I just laughed. He relaxed a lot after that.
    The viewing area for the main stage was carefully sectioned. Near the front, people spread blankets or tarps on the grass, and only chairs that sat practically on the ground were allowed. A little farther back, it was still blankets and tarps, but regular chairs were allowed too. And behind that was the area for shade tents. The crowds weren’t large yet, and we were able to spread my blanket near the trees on the west side so that we would be in the shade later in the day. I had the one low-back chair I owned, bought years ago at a flea market specifically for this one weekend each and every year. I felt bad that I didn’t have one for Angelo and hadn’t thought to tell him to bring one. He just smiled and said, “I can nap easier on the ground anyway.”
    We bought beer, then pot stickers—chicken-basil for me and curry for him. I think his eyes actually rolled back in his head when he tasted them. I laughed. “What do you think?”
“Worth comin’ here just for this,” he said. He blushed but still looked at me when he said, “Thanks for bringin’ me, Zach.”
    All I could think about was how much different it would have been with Tom. I knew instinctively he would have been complaining about everything from how hot it was to how much the beer cost. It felt great to be with Angelo instead. “I’m glad you came.”

…Angelo
D
ON ’ T get much rest that first night in Lyons. It’s strange sleepin’
    so close to Zach, hearin’ him breathin’ next to me. Feels intimate in a way I never felt before with anyone. I spend half the night wantin’ to touch him and the other half worried that I will. He’s oblivious, like always. He sleeps like a fuckin’ baby.
    Most people at Folk Fest stay up late and then sleep in. Place is dead when I get up at six. Zach’s sacked out next to me, sprawled on his back and takin’ up half the tent. I leave him sleepin’ and head for the shower. It’s an open, locker-room-type shower, with four nozzles. Zach warned me there would be a line later in the mornin’. I want to beat the rush.
    There’s one other guy in the shower with me. Great big guy, at least half a foot taller than me. Short dark hair and a body to die for. Drop-dead gorgeous and probably straight as a ruler. I try not to stare.
    “Nice to beat the crowd,” he says.
“Yeah.”
As we’re gettin’ dressed, I ask, “Know where I could find coffee ’round here?”
     
“I do. I’m headed there now.” He holds his hand out to me. “I’m Matt.”
     
Not sure why he’s introducin’ himself, but I shake his hand and say, “Angelo.”
     
“Follow me, Angelo. I’ll lead you to the best coffee in Lyons.”
    Hadn’t really intended to go anywhere with him, but what the hell? He’s sort of a big jock type, but I don’t get that bad vibe off him at all. He leads me down the street to a coffee shop—locally owned too. Not one of those big chains. We take our coffee and sit at one of the tables outside.
    “Is this your first time here?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
“Mine too. Are you here alone?”
“No. Friend’s still sleepin’.”
“Mine too.” He crinkles his eyes at me, like he might laugh but isn’t quite sure how. “What do you think so far?”
     
“Food’s good.”
     
This time he really does laugh and says, “But the music sucks.”
     
That makes me smile. “Not what I normally listen to.”
    We make small talk for an hour, mostly comparin’ which food vendors we’d tried so far—he liked the gyros better than the curry— and which bands we thought were tolerable. Then we end up orderin’ breakfast. Finally he says, “I should head back. Jared might actually be awake by now, and I promised him coffee.”
That seems like a nice thing to do, so I get a cup to take back to Zach too.
    “We should sit together,” he says as we walk back. I can’t