Hold Me Closer: The Tiny Cooper Story by David Levithan Read Free Book Online

at
hello!
    TINY:
    I like brown-paper packages—
    BRAD:
    —tied up in string!
    I like the trolley bell—
    TINY:
    —that goes
ding ding ding!

    TINY AND BRAD
    (
spoken, completely bowled over by the serendipity of their synchronicity
):
    Wow . . .
    Tiny pauses to make an observation to the audience.
    TINY:
    Of course, once we saw we had all this in common, we got more personal. Because that’s how it goes, right? You make enough mirror connections and you feel safe to fall below the surface, to get to the deeper truths you don’t think are visible to the naked eye.
    The song resumes.
    TINY:
    I like that my parents didn’t kick me out of the
    house.
    BRAD:
    I like that my stepfather isn’t a louse.
    TINY:
    I like that I don’t have to pretend.
    BRAD:
    I like that I don’t think my life will end.
    TINY:
    I like that I don’t have to worry about flirting.
    BRAD:
    I like that my soul is no longer hurting.
    Tiny addresses the audience again. Brad remains paused in the conversation, oblivious.
    TINY:
    We kept talking and talking. And we didn’t do anything else. I wanted to kiss him, to hold him, to be his boyfriend. But I had no idea what he wanted. This was the only thing we didn’t talk about—the subject of us.
    As we started a second month without clarifying the whole are-we-dating-and-are-we-going-to-kiss? thing, I found myself getting closer and closer to the edge of bringing it up.
    The song resumes.
    TINY:
    I like to stare for hours at Cate Blanchett.
    BRAD:
    I like to watch as much Sandra Bullock as I
    can get.
    TINY:
    I like to watch reruns of
Buffy
when I’m
    feeling huffy.
    BRAD:
    I like to turn on
Doctor Who
when I’m
    feeling blue.
    TINY:
    I like salted caramel ice cream.
    BRAD:
    I like Darren Criss and “Teenage Dream.”
    TINY:
    I like Liza in Berlin—
    BRAD:
    —and Rita on the West Side.
    TINY:
    I like Nemo with his dad—
    BRAD:
    —and Simba with his pride.
    TINY ( suddenly blurty ):
    I like all of these things,
    it’s true.
    But I also like
    your body and
    your smile,
    your jacket
    and your shoes,
    your sweetness
    and your jokes,
    your style
    and your smell.
    In other words
    what I guess I’m saying is
    I like you.
    Yes, you.
    I really like you—
    so much, too.
    Yeah, it’s true,
    I really, really like you.
    I mean,
    I really, really, really like you.
    BRAD ( spoken ):
    Oh. Um . . . oh. Thanks?
    TINY ( sung ):
    I like you I like you I like you
    I like you!
    I like you!
    I liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii-ike you!
    BRAD ( spoken ):
    You really don’t have to do that.
    TINY ( getting really into it, not hearing Brad ):
    I liiiii-ike you.
    Oh yes.
    Oh really.
    I like you so so so so much.
    BRAD ( spoken ):
    We’ve only known each other a month.
    TINY ( sung like “Tomorrow” ):
    I like you,
    I like you,
    I may love you,
    But now I like you . . .
    BRAD:
    I can’t do this. I’m sorry, Tiny. But you’ve got to stop.
    TINY ( sobering now, more plaintive ):
    But I like you . . .
    I really like you . . .
    BRAD:
    I’m going to go now.
    TINY ( spoken now ):
    But I like you.
    BRAD:
    I’m sorry. Really, I am. But I can’t be that. I can’t
    do that. I really have to go now.
    Brad exits the stage.
    TINY ( calling after him ):
    I like you!
    This last one is the one that’s going to haunt him, the one that even he realizes is one too many, one too late. Brad isn’t ready, and Tiny isn’t ready for Brad not to be ready. So what might have been an amazing friendship gets dashed against the wall by romantic hopes. It’s weird to look at now, to see that although I felt we were the same, we really weren’t in the same place. I learned an important lesson: that just because a boy can recite the full tracklist to the
[title of show]
cast album, it doesn’t mean that he necessarily knows what the title of his own show is going to be.
    Of course, this lesson didn’t come until much later. Right then, I didn’t feel taught. I felt tricked and trapped and traumatized.
    Which makes it time to