Read Online Money Boy by Paul Yee - Free Book Online Page A

shirt and hairy forearms. But this man wears a wide-brimmed cowboy hat.
    Two women sit side by side holding hands. With their outside hands they clink each other’s cup and lift it to the other’s lips. They drink again, eyes on each other’s faces.
    A man with a pink face and stiff white hair bends over a laptop. Earphones plug him into his machine. What’s he streaming? Elton John? Madonna? Pairs of men sit at little tables. Two uniformed fellows look like delivery men. A pair in button-down collars and khaki pants could be IT workers, bankers or undercover cops. At the window, a teenager with gray eyes and red cheeks daydreams as he smiles to himself.
    If I were a westerner, I’d go and introduce myself. I wonder if he has parents like Ba, or parents like Tyson’s.
    The men look very serious. I wonder if they’ll kiss like straight couples do in public. Maybe it’s too early in the day. Maybe these people are just friends. The soft murmur of people talking soothes me.
    There’s free wireless, so I turn on my computer and check my email. My buddies are looking for me. Kevin asks if I’ve finally found a girlfriend and am hiding out. He still thinks I’m straight. Wei claims to have a pirated copy of an advance release of Red Cliff , Part Two. Everyone begs to see it. Mila insists that we all vote for the same singers in the All-China Pop Song Award. Kai’s mom won four tickets to a Toronto Maple Leafs game. Who wants to go?
    Some of my friends would be all right with me being gay. Wei, Kai and Jenny are cool. Problem is, Mila is the queen of our group, and everyone looks up to Jian because he’s on the basketball team. I don’t know where those two stand. Do I need my friends more than I need to come out?
    If people at school knew I was gay, my locker would get smashed and paint would be poured in. I couldn’t go anywhere by myself. I’d get beaten up, thrown into a dumpster or chained inside the girls’ washroom. Each day I’d walk to school alone and then go home by myself. I may as well be dead. Tyson won’t become a friend. His crowd is all westerners, and they never talk to us.
    When Mr. Deluca teaches gay rights, students voice loud opinions. They don’t do this on any other topic. They say that gay people should be accepted in society but two men shouldn’t kiss in public. They say that no one should care who’s gay, straight, bisexual or whatever. But in real life, it’s different.
    I surf in and out of my favorite music and gaming sites. And I Google the new term I learned today, Boy Street.
    When I log onto Rebel State , wow! I’m a hero! The forum is full of players who support my let’s-fight-now stance. They just learned that guerrilla warfare doesn’t let them win as much Honor. They’re calling for new leaders at Rebel Command. The losers on the other side, all they can do is post a list of guerrilla wars that were won in the off-line world: China, Vietnam, Cuba.
    This is the best life, to be on top of the game. I post to the forum. People reply right away, now that they respect what I’m saying. I get on several threads to argue my position. In Chinese, it’s much easier than living in English.
    I lean back and shut my eyes.
    Just for a minute, I tell myself, give them a rest.
    A high-pitched squeal jolts me awake. My arm shoots out. I knock the cup to the floor. It shatters.
    Where’s my laptop?
    It’s right in front of me.
    The cashier comes running.
    â€œSorry,” she says, sweeping up the pieces. Her arm is tattooed with a huge graphic full of color and sharp edges.
    Cool!
    A fellow worker runs a heavy cord from a mike stand to a loudspeaker.
    â€œIt’s open mike tonight,” the cashier adds. “We have poetry readings every Wednesday night. It fills the place.”
    Outside it’s getting dark. Of course I’m sleepy. I haven’t had a good rest in two