With Trust - 16. Fire

For a moment there was nothing but white light and begging my heart to stop rattling in my chest against the silence, the sickly twisting in my gut. But then there was Milo again, standing in front of his door, staring as if he didn’t know what to do about the sudden harsh knocking from the other side.

“Tommy, downstairs!” his dad shouted through it. “Get him out of my house--and you downstairs!”

I swallowed hard, not sure I’d ever been made to feel colder. I shoved that feeling down, though. Thompson Trust didn’t have to like me. I was pretty sure if it came down to it my mom could totally kick his ass. But then, him not liking me definitely wasn’t the problem. Not the bigger part of it, anyway.

“Milo?” I asked softly. “What do you want me to do?”

But he was still staring at the door, obviously somewhere else. I reached out and touched his shoulder and he spun on me as if I’d bitten him.

Blinking a few times, he stared at me, his eyes suddenly sweeping over me in a way that wasn’t exactly flattering. “You need pants,” he said, and I frowned at the lack of emotion in his tone.

“You’re wearing mine.”

Milo didn’t even bother to look, just turned from me, went to his dresser and tossed me jeans. He went to get a shirt for himself. I didn’t argue with him, put them on and went to step into my shoes, gather my things without being asked. I kept my eye on him as I did so, the way he kept going to his closed door, pulling roughly at his hair, his shoulders rising and falling over harsh breaths and then slowing and stilling again.

“Milo.”

He jumped at the sound of my voice this time, and I didn’t care for that reaction, either. “You have to go,” he said, refusing to look at me.

Frowning, trying not to feel how shaken I was, too, I approached him, slid my fingers around his wrist so he couldn’t pull away when his body whipped back in my direction. Nostrils flaring, eyes going red against the paleness in his face, he looked at me helplessly and defensively all at the same time. “You don’t have to go down there alone,” I told him. “I’ll do this with you.” Because I was feeling responsible. Horribly guilty. When I had moments without panic rolling through me all I could think about how stupid all of this had been. If I’d just left last night, snuck out without Juanita knowing, or just brought him home with me. If I’d locked the fucking door after Milo had stepped through it...
Milo cocked his head at me and for a moment I couldn’t understand why he’d look at me like that, like he didn’t believe me, expected nothing from me right now. I wanted to scream at him for it, demand where the boyfriend I spent last night with went.

But when he spoke his tone was mild. “You have to go.” His eyes drifted to where I was holding his wrist--not pulling away, but obviously not wanting it there, either.

I stubbornly didn’t let go. Instead I moved closer, wishing he’d see me, or hear me, or something... “Get shoes on, come with me. We’ll handle this, I promise.” I couldn’t leave him here. Not like this. I felt like leaving him there would make a liar out of me. I’d promised him. I’d promised him a lot of things. I felt like all of them were broken.

He made me feel like there was nothing I could do about it, his blank gaze reaching mine, his wrist gently pulling away. “Please. Leave, Nelson.” He sounded so desperate that I was running out of ways to tell him no. Anything to make him stop looking like that.

So I did the last thing that came to mind. I reached out, pulled him against me and wrapped him possessively in my arms. I think I was shocked when he didn’t pull away. Instead he sank against me, fingers curling around my jacket. I let out a breath, relief finding me as if I’d just managed to find him. “Please don’t make me leave you here,” I whispered, worried by how my own voice shook.

“You have to.” He was pulling away from me again, still not willing to meet my eyes as he finally opened the bedroom door, waited there until I was standing next to him.

He looked at me expectantly, like I was supposed to know I just needed to walk away. It’s what he wanted. No. It’s what he said he wanted.

There had to be a difference.

And his way was wrong. I found myself shaking my head at him, but he turned away from me, walked away from me. He was walking me out. I wanted to be stubborn about it, move back into his room and lock the door. Because suddenly it dawned on me that if I walked out of here, if I walked away from him, even if he was asking me to, I didn’t know what would happen next. What Milo was facing--it was a huge deal. And I had no idea where it was going to leave him. Or me. So that’s the last thing I asked him, once standing outside his door, him on the other side of it. “What happens now?”

But the tall and angry shadow that moved behind Milo came closer, unfriendly eyes glaring their disgust at me and sent a cold lump down my throat that choked me. So I looked at Milo instead, wanting to escape it, not liking the nothingness in his green eyes, the last thing I saw before Mr. Trust slammed the door in my face.
.................

I was pretty sure that I wanted to kill Jame Graham. With a spoon, or something dull like that. Something that would take a little effort on my part, so I could really get in there and enjoy it.

Yeah.

I felt a hysterical sort of laughter bubble, rise out of me the same way vomit would during the stomach flu. Unpleasant and bitter.

“Nelson,” Greg Hugh’s voice reached my ears, his tone suggesting that maybe I was throwing up all over his floor, not just making weird sounds. I found myself looking down to check. No. Hadn’t gotten sick yet.

I looked up, frowning at the way his handsome face was contorted into something strange. He was looking at me like I was strange. Okay. What?

He was trying to pass me a glass of water. I didn’t remember asking for it but I took it anyway. Maybe I said thank you. Maybe not. My eyes felt all blurry when I started drinking it. “Is Chad home yet?” I asked after several long swallows.

Instead of answering me, Greg gave my shoulder a friendly squeeze and stood up. “Hang in there, okay? I’m gonna get you something with sugar in it.”

Because I didn’t understand, I shook my head as he crossed the apartment he shared with my brother in search of food. Because I didn’t really care what he was doing, I leaned back on the sofa and didn’t ask him why he was doing it. I closed my eyes.

Can’t think. Oatmeal for brains. Kind of what it felt like. And kind of numb, too.

“Nelson.”

Greg’s voice was sharp, causing my eyes to flutter in his direction. Later I’d feel bad about how it wasn’t in a very friendly way. But he was still looking at me... he was looking at me like I was broken. He sat on the sofa. It dipped beside me and he held out a candy bar.

“Eat that,” he insisted.

I looked at it, still sitting in his hand. I didn’t want to eat that. Didn’t remember asking for it, either. I ran my fingers through my hair, the fact that I hadn’t combed it yet today becoming apparent and my efforts went to smoothing it. “Chad back yet?” I frowned at the look Greg gave me over that question. I cocked my head at him. “He’s at Leanna’s, right?”

“Work. He’s at work.” And Greg was looking at me as if he’d already answered that question. More than once. Okay. Yeah, he had. When he let me in, that’s when.

I shook my head tiredly. “Sorry,” I mumbled, and then stared blankly at my hand when he suddenly opened it, placed the candy against my palm.

“Do you want to talk about this?” he asked awkwardly. I almost smiled at him, but couldn’t quite put in the effort. Nope. Didn’t want to talk. Not recommended at all. If I started talking to Greg Hugh I’d tell him that last night I felt the beginning of something between me and Milo Trust. Something good. And then this morning it had all gone to hell, and I ran a stoplight and got honked at by an old lady, so I’d decided to wait to drive all the way home. I’d come looking for Chad instead. And somewhere in there I’m sure it would lead me to telling him that by the way, I’m into guys and you were my first crush. Seems like something I’d say while not thinking straight. And I wasn’t, was I?

Feeling ill again, I let my weight fall back against the couch, hoping he wouldn’t bother me again, especially since I still didn’t feel like eating the candy bar, which he was staring at because he wanted me to, or maybe...I held it out to him. “You want it?”

There was a knock on the front door. I don’t think Greg would have been more relieved for the interruption if I’d had my hand halfway down his pants as I confessed my undying love. He was up and at the door in seconds. I only half stopped paying attention. Didn’t bother looking to see who it was there, but I could hear Greg as he said a few silent words. “He got here like this...he said he didn’t take anything, but...”

“You take drugs, Nels?” My dad’s voice reached my ears and I turned my head, eyeing him where he stood in the doorway, adjusting his glasses with gloved hands.

“Not today,” I said, because I didn’t lie to my parents.

My dad exchanged an amused glance with Greg. “I’ve got him.”

“Thanks, Mr. Lambert. Um... I was sort of late...”

“We’ll lock up,” my dad promised. “Thanks for calling.”

Greg grinned, already reaching for his car keys. I heard the door close a moment later, and then my dad was on the couch next to me, eyeing my candy bar. He wanted it. I held it out with a weird smile that felt just plain stupid on my face, found myself watching as he tore the wrapper, pulled a piece of chocolate and shoved it into his mouth. Something about his actions felt comforting. Rubbed at the numbness. Or maybe that was just because he was there.

“So what’s going on, Nels?” he asked, his eyes concerned through his glasses, but his tone neutral. I’m sure he expected me to tell him something horrible. I felt the need to put him out of his misery.

“Uncle Ray isn’t looking for me for anything,” I promised. “And mostly I just smoke pot with Joe. Not all the time.” I pointed across the room where I’d dropped my backpack. “And there’s alcohol in there, but I didn’t drink any of it.”

Curious, my dad crossed the room, opened the bag and reached directly for the bottle, which he studied for a moment before deciding to leave it next to the TV for Chad and Greg. When he turned to face me again he was serious, the kind of soft look that always made me want to tell him everything. Or cry. I felt myself sitting up a little straighter, the bridge of my nose burning as I became determined to do the first thing and not the second.

“Are you okay, son?”

I shook my head. Or maybe I was just shaking. Not helping the nausea. “Assface.”

“Excuse me?”

I rubbed at my temple, my head beginning to ache. He was back on the couch again, his big hands massaging my shoulders soothingly. “Jame Graham,” I said, not liking the tremor in my voice. “He said I was going to fuck up everything for Milo, and I think I did.” I met my dad’s eyes, feeling helpless. Then I tapped my thigh, the dark jeans covering it. “And these aren’t my pants,” I added, because at the moment, I figured that should explain everything.
..............................

Sleep covered it up, my body rebelling against everything that had managed to kick it on its ass. Go take a nap. Go take a nap. I’d refused the suggestion from both of my parents and ended up passing out the second I went down to my room to change because I couldn’t stand looking at my legs wrapped in Milo’s jeans anymore. I liked these jeans. On him. But waking up hurt. Opening my eyes I felt like my stomach was bottoming out, and my eyes felt swollen, maybe because I’d refused to cry all day and I needed to. Whatever. Crying could fuck off. I didn’t want to cry. I wanted to fix things.

I was groggy as I made my way to the bathroom to splash water on my face, and then followed muffled voices through the house. It smelled like pizza, faint. So maybe, cold pizza now. I hoped that no one would try to get me to eat some. My stomach was already lurching in protest.

Voices. Kitchen. My first thoughts were alarmed, because out the big glass windows the field was dark, the goat staring in one of them looking like a ghost outside. I looked around groggily. Cold pizza on the kitchen counter. Two slices and three hot wings, exactly what I usually ate. I decided to get mad at the food and without thinking pulled it all out of the box and dumped it in the trash can.

Returning to being worried over where everyone else was, I continued to the living room where I paused the moment I heard pieces of conversation.

“... be okay, I mean, if it were to happen, Haily would give the heads-up, right?” Leanna was asking. “Nels did tell her?”

“Yeah,” my mom replied. “Maybe I should call her over... she doesn’t know anything about Milo, though.”

And she wasn’t going to find out, I thought wildly, gritting my teeth. Because I needed, had to keep some of my promises.

“I don’t think we should do anything just yet,” my dad insisted. Thank God. Voice of reason. “Let’s see how this plays out.”

“I agree with you,” my mom replied. “But obviously we need to be prepared. Maybe Nelson can go visit your cousins for a few weeks, and obviously he won’t be in school tomorrow...”

I walked into the living room where my parents were gathered with Chad and Leanna, all of their demeanors looking just like they should for any family emergency.

I wasn’t in the mood for being an emergency. I found myself forcing my features to soften when my mom spotted me first, smiled and got up to give me a hug. I was okay with that, closed my eyes against her comfortable shoulder before releasing her.

“Hi, honey,” she said, looking me over the way she might if I’d just survived a bull fight. “How did you sleep? There’s food in the kitchen.”

I ignored the first question, waved off the second and promised, “I was already there. Took care of it.” She smiled approvingly. Later when she looked in the trash can she’d be force-feeding me last night’s chicken. “And I’m not leaving anywhere,” I said. “And I’m going to school tomorrow.” My brother and my dad seemed to approve. Leanna just smiled at me, seeming suddenly uncomfortable, and my mom looked worried. I asked my next question before she could respond. “Did you talk to Emily?”

Eventually my dad had gotten me home. My car was still sitting at Chad’s apartment, unless he and Leanna had brought it back. Probably better if they didn’t, I decided, because I wanted to drive over to Milo’s, knock on the door until someone heard me and get as mad as I should have that morning. Only, he didn’t want me to. But I’d managed to tell my parents most of what had happened. The last time they’d talked to me the night before, I’d been with Caleb, and that’s where they’d assumed I’d spent the night. They weren’t going to ground me after everything else I’d told them had happened, but I had a feeling they’d be keeping closer eyes on me. Truthfully, I didn’t mind. I think maybe I needed that.

And I didn’t have to ask my mom to call Emily. And I hadn’t objected when she said she was going to try. I needed something, anything, to tell me what had gone on in that house after I’d left it. I think that’s why I’d been so stubborn about lying down for a few minutes like my parents wanted me to. I was stalking my mom and the phone.
“There’s still no answer over there,” my mom replied.

I passed her, feeling dejected as I took a seat on the longer sofa near my brother. “How am I supposed to know if he’s okay? His dad... I heard him this morning. The way he looked at me...”

“Maybe we should go over and check,” Chad suddenly said, and the looks that crossed the room suggested that the topic had been brought up before. I would have smiled at my brother if he hadn’t looked at me pointedly and added, “Not you.”

“Why not me?” I demanded.

“Because you said yourself the way he looked at you... you’re not going back over there.”

My brother hadn’t tried to protect me in a way that made it sound like he was giving orders since he lived at home and I instantly resented it, but my dad cut off any snappy response I might have had when he said, “Nelson, think hard. Has Milo given you any reason to think that his dad would do something we need to call Ray for?”

I wanted to say hell yes. Send the fucking cavalry just so someone could tell me Milo’s okay. But my eyes told the truth, and the room fell silent again until my mom stood up. “I’ll try Emily again,” she said.
..........................

Worst night of my life. I didn’t sleep. I’d slept all day, so I didn’t really need to. Let my family think I did, though. Instead I was bitter, knowing that it had been less than twenty-four hours. That Milo had woken up that morning wanting to spend his day with me. Things hadn’t turned out that way. Now I was afraid to go to sleep. I spent most of the night writing, realized I hadn’t done it in months. But it wasn’t the writing I’d like to do. More like, everything I’d like to say to Mr. Trust. Then it turned to everything I would have said to Milo that morning if he’d given me half the chance. I started feeling sick again, gave it up. I think I slept for maybe an hour, finally, before I was eagerly getting ready for school. Chad and Leanna had managed to get my car home, and that I’d have to dearly thank them for later, because this was one day I couldn’t miss.

I had to see him.

School would be safe. I could be careful there. Milo swore by Jame. His grudge against me wouldn’t hurt Milo if that was true. And I prepared myself as I left my house before my parents woke because it wasn’t really Jame I needed to worry about. I knew what to expect from him, but Milo...

He wouldn’t want to see me. Not in public. Maybe not anywhere. Somehow I’d managed to resign myself to that fact even though everything in me rebelled against it. I couldn’t see him. Look at him. Walk right past him every day. And pretend not to know him. But to keep my word I’d have to. Maybe I could watch him move on, move away from me. But not if I didn’t know he was okay. I had to know that.
So I staked out his locker. I stood around a corner, in the crowd, hiding from it. I didn’t have to approach him, especially if Jame was with him. But I did need to see him. Just one fucking look. And I didn’t need to talk to him. He’d find the note I’d left him in his locker, just like a hundred times before. He’d find a way to tell me if he was okay. He’d do that because I meant something to him. He said it. I wasn’t breaking my promise.

He didn’t come.

I waited, I watched, I was ten minutes late to my first class. He didn’t come.

Three classes with Jame. Six walks past Milo’s locker. Eight trips to mine to see if he’d tried to reach me. Two trips to his car to see if I’d find him there after three useless trips trying to find where he’d parked it. Nowhere near where he usually did.

At lunch Caleb asked me if I was alright. I told him I was fine, and I was also pretty rude about it. He told me I was an idiot and I should stop looking like I was going to puke if I didn’t want people asking me. He spent twenty minutes waiting in the parking lot and another ten in the cafeteria with me as I searched for Milo and then he finally demanded we sit down and eat. Then in the halls I made the mistake of asking Haily if she’d heard anything about me lately. Like, today. Things that might be weird, out-of-the-ordinary or what not. When she’d said no and asked why I’d told her it was nothing, leading her to accuse me of keeping more secrets from her. I didn’t want to speculate on why she thought they could be any worse than the last one.

And Jame. I don’t know why it bothered me that he acted like everything was normal. He hated me. I hated him. Nothing had changed. Nothing more he wanted to mention about the matter. He didn’t talk to me, of course, and the only reason I hadn’t tried to get information out of him was because I liked to think I wasn’t that desperate. Not yet. Please, not yet.

No, desperation came after school when I sat on the hood of Milo’s car, deciding that if he wasn’t going to talk to me before the day was over then he could drive home with me as his new hood ornament. It became even harder when it wasn’t Milo I seemed to be waiting for, but the Assface who happened to have his car keys.

I stood, face blank, barely containing the urge I had to do something stupid, when a smirk that was so smug it hurt erupted on Jame’s face. And it was when he lifted a folded-up note with my handwriting on it and threw it at my feet that the obnoxious burning in the back of my eyes and the bridge of my nose came on again. My lashes felt heavy, wet. What the fuck is this, anyway? Don’t cry. Just kill him. He deserves it and all that.

“Where’s Milo?” Why the hell did I sound so polite? Talking to him. Beggar. That’s what I was. Desperate. I couldn’t take my eyes off that note, knowing Jame read it.

Jame snorted, shoved past me towards the driver’s seat. I wanted to fling myself in front of him. “Jame, please...” I said, and he looked up at me, standing in front of the opened car door, looking startled but not impressed. “I know you read it. He thinks you care about him. I know I do... and you know I do. Just tell me if he’s okay.”

Jame scowled at me, as if he found everything I’d just said particularly offensive. But he still told me what I wanted to know. It just happened to be in a way that hurt me. “He’s fine, away from you. He doesn’t want to see you, Nelson. He’s going back to Stratfort, asked me to clear out his locker so he wouldn’t be seen around you... you don’t care about him. I told you you’d fuck it up for him, too. You think his dad’s gonna let up anytime soon? Congratulations. Asshole.” And then Jame suddenly pointed at me. “You shouldn’t get away with fucking any of it.”
.......................................

My mom drove me to school on Wednesday. My parents had been relieved once I promised them nothing at school had changed. Except that Milo wasn’t there anymore. Chad and Leanna had spent two nights at our house now because I was something to worry about. I told them all that putting me on suicide watch was insulting. They told me they loved me, and I felt bad. Because maybe I did need the company. My friends didn’t understand why I hadn’t returned any of their calls. I wondered why Milo didn’t return mine.

I had called. My mom called Emily with no success, and I became bold enough to call the house directly. Nothing. But then Wednesday morning when I woke up, my parents were in the kitchen with Uncle Ray, who was trying to figure out why Thompson Trust had filed a complaint about being harassed by our phone number. My mom had insisted on driving me to school then, begging me not to try again. “We’ll hear something, Nelson,” she’d said. “Please be patient.” She seemed confident, but it made me wonder what she’d told my uncle Ray.

I’d always figured I’d come out to the rest of my family someday. It was my place to do so. But given everything that had happened I suddenly felt so tired that I didn’t know how to care if the decision was out of my hands. If I discovered my parents had told Ray anything, I wouldn’t hold it against them. Didn’t want to. Besides, I figured it was way past time I cashed in on the perks of my being the sheriff’s nephew. The way my mom talked I had no doubt that if Ray knew everything, he’d have better luck than any of us in getting some kind of update on Milo.

And yet I still couldn’t keep my nose out of it, went to the nearest payphone once I reached school and dialed Milo’s number. The disconnected notice I heard on the other line felt emptier than thinking they just weren’t answering the phone.

I’d taken a deep breath and walked distractedly to my locker. The bells had rung but today I wasn’t the only one not paying attention to them. Our first class of the day had been canceled for some sort of special assembly other students were putting on. I didn’t care about it. Milo hadn’t cared about it. Milo wasn’t there.

I opened my locker, stared into it blankly and mentally cursed myself when I allowed myself to feel even the slightest bit hopeful when I mistook a loose piece of notebook paper for what I wanted it to be. That’s what led me to sticking my head dejectedly in my locker. Lockers don’t smell good, and they echo. I could hear other students passing in a blur, my ears buzzing until the chatter faded away. Shit. Sighing, I closed my locker. Everyone was heading to the assembly, and I was supposed to meet Haily, Joe and Caleb. But thoughts of that faded when I closed the door to my locker, turned and came face to face with the blue eyes of Brandon Sholer. His blond bangs angled across his forehead, his muscled shoulder casually holding his weight against the lockers, he regarded me as welcoming as always, dimple flashing when I met his eyes.

I tried to smile at him. It’s what I always did. Seemed harder to smile at anyone over the last couple days, let alone meet their eyes.

“Hey,” I said politely, already moving past him. “Heading to the assembly?”

“Yep,” he replied, but instead of falling into step beside me to head in that direction, remarked, “So Milo Trust, huh? I guess I could see that. Only, you seemed smarter than to go after someone who doesn’t return favors.”

“What?” I’d spun back to face him, startled despite his relaxed demeanor as he pushed himself off the lockers, shrugged at me.

“Too bad he wasn’t interested, right? He is hot,” Brandon replied. He made a face. “But I mean, if you think about it, it was probably asking for trouble. Shit, Nelson, I don’t get why you never just called me.”

“What?” Stop saying that. I blinked at him a few times, shaking it off as I put his words together, understanding but not wanting to admit it. “I mean... did I just come out to you?” And how did that happen? Wait. I raised an eyebrow. “Did you just come out to me?”

Brandon smiled, his sudden chuckle the genuine kind that I’d always thought was cute. Not so much now. “No. I’m just making friendly conversation. And you... I thought you came out to just about everyone.” He suddenly stepped closer, gave the place between my collarbone and my shoulder a friendly pat, but his blue eyes were suddenly serious. “I’ll do what I can, but do yourself a favor and stay away from the guys on the team for a while... actually, keep your distance from most of the ones at school. Not everyone has a rich daddy that can get them into a fancy school because their balls aren’t big enough to handle compliments from another guy, and I’m hearing no one’s too pleased about the whole thing.”

One fleeting little grin and Brandon was walking away from me. Didn’t think it would be a good idea to watch his ass this time. Besides, I was too busy trying not to hyperventilate. I don’t think I was aware that I even knew how to hyperventilate. Apparently it was easy. Or maybe this is what a panic attack was supposed to feel like. Forgetting how to breathe, hands going numb. I shook them at my sides, my breath hitching as I tried to catch it.

Forget everything about me being okay with the choice being taken away.

Fuckity-fuck-fuck.

My reaction too slow, by the time I spun around to stare at Brandon Sholer walking away he was gone, and I was alone in an empty hallway. My mind was suddenly spinning so fast I didn’t know which way was up, and then a terrifying clarity hit my chest.

You came out to just about everyone.

Nuh-uh. Not since the other day, anyway. And yesterday... Milo was gone, but nothing else was different. This morning... I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t fucking know. Not like I’d made an active effort to talk to anyone. To even look past the ground at anyone. When had I seen my friends last? Not long. I’d know if...

I did know. Like, click. I knew because I knew Jame Graham.

It wasn’t done spreading yet, mouth to ear like fire.

Suddenly my plan to plot Assface’s death only came in second to one thing, and I was moving. It took me under five minutes to reach the auditorium. This time all too aware. There weren’t many people in the halls, but suddenly I couldn’t pass one of them without feeling watched. Scrutinized. Did that guy just step out of my way? Like I’m dirty.

Not right. This wasn’t right.

“Haily!” I choked myself, realizing I’d just screamed her name as if someone’s life depended on it. Well... maybe not that dramatic, but enough to draw her attention, among others.

I was late. I’d be stupid to think that she wasn’t waiting for me. She was planning to show me were everyone was sitting. Haily always waited. But there were others around me, suddenly making me wary. Couldn’t tell if they were looking at me because I’d just drawn their attention or because they were looking at me. Another deep breath. Another knot in the stomach. I felt crippled. Afraid to move, feet sluggish.

She jogged towards me. Her dark braid lifted up and down over her shoulder, her eyes wide as she reached me. “Oh my god, you have no idea what people are saying. I just heard...”

“I hit on Milo Trust and he had to switch schools so I’d leave him alone.”

I was surprised how calm I sounded just then, was rather proud of it. That’s why I felt put out when Haily rolled her eyes at me. “Yeah? So where is Milo? He can tell the three people I heard it from it’s crap.”

I took that in for a second. “Who told you?” I asked numbly.

Haily listed them, and none of them were Brandon Sholer. Spreading.

I reached out, grabbed Haily’s wrist and found myself dragging her towards the auditorium.
“Hey! Nelson did you hear me? Why would anyone figure...” her eyes widened on me suddenly and instead of trying to pull me to a halt she jogged to keep up with my long strides as I moved into the auditorium. Her voice drew into a whisper because there was already someone speaking. “You made a move on Milo?” she hissed. “I told you to be careful!”

I looked over heads, faces. The audience blurred together. We usually found a place towards the back. Easier to get out. That’s where I looked. “Where’s Joe and Caleb?” I asked Haily, who I’d let go of but stayed close enough because she’d taken it upon herself to grasp onto the sleeve of my sweater.

Haily pointed in one general direction, but finding my other friends was hardly her focus. “Nelson...”

But the moment I spotted Caleb and Joe we were headed towards them, her words dying on her lips.

I think maybe it was the way that Caleb smiled and waved us over when he saw us, that got to me the most. I was beginning to notice the whispers in the crowd, conversations that stopped when I passed by. I found myself looking at Haily, wondering if she noticed, too. Wondering if it was real. For me it was everywhere, spreading. Close to the people I cared about. It hadn’t touched Caleb yet. My mind reeled, searching for ways to keep it away from him, knowing that I couldn’t.

“Maybe we could stop this,” Haily was saying, trying to be helpful. “If we figure out who started...”

“It was Jame,” I heard myself say.

“Okay. Not surprised, but what about...”

“Hey,” Caleb called as soon as we were in earshot. “Me and Joe are thinking about cutting out of here until this thing is over. Do you guys...”

“Let’s do that,” I blurted. Out. Get out.

“What?” Haily said next to me. “There are teachers at every door. They won’t let us out once we’re in.”

My eyes took a sweep over the students surrounding us. Too close. I heard my name whispered. Not my imagination.

I focused on my friends again. Behind Caleb, Joe was staring at me, lip turned up the way it did when he was trying to figure something out. He was in the fire.

“There’s that door that lets out to the teacher parking lot,” I said. “Only one of us needs to get out to open it.”

Caleb grinned in approval and turned his chestnut eyes on Haily. “Go get yourself a case of the cramps, Hails. We’ll meet you over there.”

Haily rolled her eyes, glanced at my pale face and decided not to argue. She left us to head through the same exit we’d just come through, her hand moving dramatically to her stomach as soon as someone tried to stop her while she gave her excuses as to why she had to leave.

Caleb’s hand on my back, pushing me forward made me jump, but I snapped out of it and started walking. Made my way to the far wall where students who couldn’t find a seat in the crowded auditorium stood. I walked past them with Caleb and Joe trailing behind. Since when did I lead the way?

Stay away from the guys on the team...

Brandon’s words came back to haunt me when my eyes found them. Didn’t mean to. Was kind of hard with them all lined up there, though. Against the wall. Not paying attention to the assembly speakers. Because they saw me. I saw one elbow another, drawing attention, eyes shifting warily in my direction. These were people who liked me yesterday.

I walked faster. A foot stuck out into the aisle in my path and I stumbled over it. I hardly noticed the way Caleb caught me, kept me from falling. But I did notice when he glared at the guy who’d done it. He seemed, as usual, unconcerned that he couldn’t take that guy on and the whole team, too.

“Hey, watch what you’re doing!” Caleb snapped. I grabbed his big arm and pulled him along, not wanting to mention that they were watching what they were doing. That’s why they were laughing. Except for Brandon Sholer, who suddenly appeared between us and the team, letting us pass. He gave me a nod, not seeming to give two shits about the dirty looks that sent in his direction. I felt sick, and stupid because I couldn’t bring myself to look him in the eye, not even with a silent thank you.

I just wanted out.

I swear people are rubbing me the wrong way today,” Caleb remarked while Joe looked around him to frown at me.

“What were you guys going to do?” I asked, wanting to change the subject.

Caleb shrugged. “We’ll find something.”

Something.

“I need to talk to you,” I said, not all that sure that I meant it.

“What’s up?” Caleb asked.

I shook my head. “Outside.”

Joe decided he wanted to speak up. “Is it about what everyone’s saying?” he asked, his tone short, annoyance touching it.

Caleb’s mouth turned down, the cleft in his chin growing deeper. “What’s everyone saying?”

Joe made a sound, like he thought that was a stupid question.

I avoided the urge to clutch at my chest, tell my heart it was getting too loud. And I didn’t want Joe to answer that question. “Can we just get outside?” I asked, beginning to sound a little sharp myself.

I picked up the pace, slipped down the hallway that led past the stage. It was quieter there. Fewer people, but I felt no less relieved, especially when I realized that Joe was no longer with us. Caleb noticed first, touched my shoulder to stop me.

When I turned back, Caleb was looking at Joe, who’d stopped ten feet back, expectantly and said, “What are you doing? Let’s go.”

Joe didn’t respond to Caleb. Instead his dark eyes were on me, cold stare drawing my gaze whether I liked it or not. “Is it true?” he demanded. “Because I just got a week of after-schools with Mr. Hoover because he heard me cussing out Adam Faber because he wouldn’t shut up about you, so is it true?”

“What the fuck.” Caleb was growing impatient, his eyes suddenly darting between me and Joe. Finally he settled on Joe. “Who’s saying what?”

When I couldn’t seem to respond to any of it because of the sudden knot choking me, Joe glanced at Caleb and explained, “Everyone’s saying it. Something about Nelson here getting Milo Trust drunk so he could get in his pants.”

The sound Caleb made was half disbelief, half something else. And then he met my eyes and his expression fell. I imagined he was thinking of the bottle he knew I had when I went to meet Milo the last time I’d seen him. Or maybe he was thinking that I should be denying the hell out of all of it. Finally he cocked his head and said, “What?”

I let out a breath. It wasn’t true. Not the things people were saying. Not everything Joe thought, and not everything that Caleb didn’t want to believe as he stared at me. But even for being half the truth... I couldn’t correct the rest of it.

“It’s true,” I said quietly, and then as an afterthought looked at Joe and added, “I’m sorry you got detention.”

Joe shook his head at me, his mouth moving for several long moments before he got words out, words that made me wince. “You’re... that’s fucking gross.. It’s... that’s just gross.” And the look on his face said he meant it, and he was angry about it, and maybe more, but I lowered my eyes from his, preparing myself before I looked at Caleb again, who’d taken a full step back from me.

His turn.

But Caleb didn’t say anything to me. He just stared at me like I was supposed to take it all back.

It was only minutes, but seemed like an eternity later as I stepped through the back door Haily was holding open, out into the overcast day, the sky spitting little bits of snow at me. Haily looked behind me curiously, waiting for Caleb and Joe. They weren’t coming.

“They know,” I told her.

She let the door fall closed, her features resigned, disappointed. “So much for being careful.”
............

I hardly looked up as Chad slid a can of soda across the small table in his apartment. Just caught it to keep it from plowing through the never-ending piles of body jewelry he had laid out. I was helping him sort through it for Dane. He hadn’t asked me to but I figured that helping him would be better than him kicking me out for sitting on his sofa all day and being depressing. I glanced at the clock on the wall. Two and a half more hours before school got out and I could go home.

“Aren’t you hungry or something?” Chad asked. “Way past lunch.” He was back in his kitchen, trying to figure out if there was anything in the refrigerator that wouldn’t poison him. Hmm. Thanksgiving leftovers in January.

“Nope,” I said as I lifted a long barbell with even longer spikes on both ends, wondering exactly what body part something like it might go through.

“Yeah? When was the last time you ate?”

The question rubbed me the wrong way, but I forced myself not to glare. “I wish everyone would stop asking me that. I’m fine.”

“Then what are you doing here?” my brother countered. “Come on, Nels. Get your ass up. We’re going out to lunch.”

I shot him a look that told him just how crazy I thought he was for even suggesting it. He rolled his eyes at me.

“Somewhere where you don’t have to get out of the car,” he amended. “Come on, it’s either this or you can get your ass to school. At least if I feed you Mom won’t have another reason to yell at me when she finds out about this.”

I didn’t argue, even though we both knew my mom wouldn’t yell at him. Especially if she found out why I’d been cutting school ever since walking out of yesterday’s assembly.

Haily had offered to go with me. I’d declined, telling her thank you when she swore she’d talk some sense into Joe and Caleb. But forever honest, she also informed me that she completely understood where their shock factor came from, and I shouldn’t expect to not have to give them space. I made her promise not to tell Joe I’d been crushing on him for the last few years because it definitely wouldn’t make things better, and then I’d walked to the nearest bus stop and ended up at the tattoo shop where I pestered Chad all day. It had taken him three hours to decide it was time for me to end the ruse I was putting on about being just fine, and I’d told him everything.

Well, not everything.

He knew my secret was out. He knew there were people who weren’t happy about it. It was more than what I told my parents.

It’s not that I didn’t think I could tell them. They would find out, and soon. Soon everyone would hear the rumors. The rumors were the problem, and I didn’t even tell my brother that I wasn’t only owning up to being gay, I was owning up to being a bona fide pervert. I just needed more time. Chad seemed willing to give that to me when I’d shown up on his doorstep that morning with my backpack, and not at school.

We took Chad’s car to a taco stand he liked, and when I didn’t even look at the menu he ordered me the same two-taco meal that he’d ordered for himself.

Instead of heading back to his apartment with the food he turned into a nearby parking lot, pulled into a spot facing the sun and when the light came through the front windshield it warmed the car and intensified the smell of beans and green chili.

My brother slid back his seat, and being short enough, looked rather comfortable when he threw his mismatched high-tops up on the dashboard, stretching his legs. He passed me a taco and I took a bite of it just because I was tired of telling people that I wasn’t hungry.

“Heard from Caleb yet?”

I shook my head, not wanting to mention that I wasn’t sure if I’d ever hear from Caleb.

“What do you think’s going on at school today?” Chad tried. He was trying to get me talking.

“Learning. Stuff like that.”

Chad smirked at me. “Mom and dad are going to figure out you’re skipping.”

I sighed, feeling frustrated. “I know. I’ll tell them before that happens.”

“Then what?” he wanted to know.

I shrugged. “Then... I don’t know.”

Chad stared out the front window for a few minutes, seeming relaxed in his makeshift winter tanning booth as we both ate in silence. I knew better than to think my brother was going to let the subject drop, though.

“Seems like you’ve only got a few options,” he finally said. “It’s not like the cat’s going back in the bag.”

“I know that,” I said reasonably. I just hadn’t really put much thought into it. Downright refused, actually, because I was still holding out for waking up tomorrow morning, when I’d wake up and realize it had all been a bad dream. Everything would be normal again. Maybe I’d even be back in bed with Milo, him saying he was ready to hang out with me for the whole day.

“So,” Chad said, “I guess you can either deal with it... or deal with it. We both know running is out for you.”

I raised an eyebrow at that. “I don’t know. Running can be healthy.”

“You won’t run,” Chad said confidently. “I mean, right now doesn’t count. We’ll call this vacation.”

“Vacation?” I snorted. “I want a refund.”

“Tell it to the cat.”

I sighed. I hated the stupid cat. Stupid broken bag. “All these people I’ve known forever... it’s like they’re all different now.”

“Nah. The people are the same as they’ve always been. You’re just learning new things about them. Maybe they think you’re different. Tell them otherwise. Show them.”

“How?”

“Hell if I know.”

I made a face at him. “Is this you trying to help?”

Chad laughed. “You can’t do anything but be yourself, Nels. Who knows. Maybe you’ll even do it better now. Don’t worry about what people think. The ones that matter are the ones who aren’t going to think anything at all... you should really try to talk to Caleb.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that. It’s not that I didn’t want to talk to Caleb, or Joe for that matter. I just didn’t know how to. “He looked at me like he doesn’t even know me.”

“So set him straight. Maybe he’ll be okay, maybe he won’t. He’ll hear you out, though.” My brother smirked. “Maybe not many other people... but you he’ll at least hear out, and if you don’t think so, maybe you’re the one who doesn’t know him all that well.”
....................

I hated the quiet. I craved the crowds, the noise. Even the drunken stupidity. Company. Instead I had my bedroom with myself to keep me occupied. No good for me, being alone so much. I was convinced that a few days of it for me had to be something like months for most people. Made worse because when I was alone, my mind drifted to places that hurt to touch. Like Milo.

I dialed his disconnected number just because it was something familiar. I stared at his painting, the one of the scarecrow, wondering if I’d see more like it this summer at Hangman, and if I did, I wondered how close I’d be able to get to look at them. I wondered if I’d still want to.

The numbness that had been clinging to me was wearing off, and I almost felt like I was mourning something, waiting for it to get better. Moments of hurt or anger crept up without warning, and sometimes I didn’t know which I was feeling. I felt jumbled. Messy.

But I smelled good. Three showers a day was going to drive our water bill through the roof, but it had become my new favorite place to turn off the lights, get lost in dark and steam and pretend that I didn’t know the difference between the hot spray of water and tears.

While visiting Chad I’d convinced him that he didn’t have to hang around at home so much, just for me. He wanted time with Leanna. He should get to have that.

And because my brother and his girlfriend weren’t around Thursday afternoon, and because I couldn’t stand another movie with my parents, I holed up in my room. Alone. Craving. Crazy. More writing. A little doodling. Another call to the number Milo didn’t have anymore, this time because I forgot... for just a second I forgot. Maybe that meant things were getting better. Only, I didn’t understand how.

Shortly after I decided that never again was someone to worry about whether or not I was eating when I hauled an unopened carton of ice cream and a can of whipped cream down to my room and held a one-man competition to see who could get the biggest brain-freeze.

And then I picked up the phone, dialed again.

This time it rang.
“Hello?”

“You answered,” I said before I could stop myself. It was a stupid thing to say, since before now I hadn’t exactly tried calling.

“Guess so,” Caleb replied.

I found myself silent for a moment, realizing that I hadn’t exactly planned this out. Then again, maybe it was better that way.

“Caleb... look, can we... can we talk?”

“Talk,” he finally said, after a silence that suggested some thinking of his own.

I let out a breath. I didn’t like not seeing him. If I could see him, I could read him, know what he was thinking. “Can we meet?”

“I have a family thing tonight.”

“Oh.”

Caleb sighed. “Look... tomorrow. Before school. You do still go to school?”

I let out a shaky breath. “Tomorrow I do.”
......................

I had to tell my parents about the whole being out thing. But I probably shouldn’t have done it ten minutes before I was supposed to be heading to school on Friday morning. It took a lot longer than that to talk them out of coming with me so we could talk to a counselor, give personnel a heads-up about what was going on. Given the rumors that were flying around, I had a feeling that there wasn’t a teacher in school that didn’t have a good idea of what was going on. Hell, by now they probably knew more about me than I did.

I didn’t really want to know what those things were, but I did want to take my brother’s advice and take a chance on talking to Caleb. I almost backed out of it, though, when I didn’t get to school until two minutes before class was supposed to start and Caleb wasn’t waiting on the stairs.

But maybe that was because I was late. Disappointed, I pulled up the hood of my black sweater and stepped through the front doors. Calling the place Hellschool, had never seemed more appropriate.

I tried to keep what Chad had said in mind. Be yourself.

Except, I wasn’t the guy who hid under thick sweater hoods. I wasn’t the one that turned away from familiar faces I usually smiled at.

Maybe I was being stupid. I tried a small, friendly smile in Theresa Milldrum’s direction. She flashed me a once-over that suggested she knew a secret that I didn’t. Then she whispered something in her friend’s ear. They laughed. I went back to avoidance.

Until I reached my locker.

The first thing I noticed was more people than usual crowding the halls. Among them were Haily, Joe and Caleb. The three of their faces were blank as they stared at the same thing that everyone else seemed to be interested in. It caught my eye then, there on the metal door that my books were behind. Big red letters. It was an ugly word. Around it was a not so artistic drawing of certain body parts. In smaller print, towards the bottom I read, Free blow jobs! I cocked my head at it, my fingers reaching into the pocket of my backpack where they seemed to wrap around a marker on their own accord.

I pushed the hood off of my head and as I came forward and several people suddenly decided it was time to find something better to do. Others whispered. Some didn’t seem to care whether or not I heard them. Among the ones I called friend, Haily noticed me first when I said, “I thought that only happened on after-school specials.”

She didn’t respond, her brow troubled with pity as I stepped past her, my fingers reaching to trace terrible words written over metal. And then I uncapped my marker and crossed out Free. After the week I had, there was no way I was going to be anyone’s cheap date.

I turned, feeling rather satisfied with myself, but couldn’t quite get the smile I wanted to form on my face. That’s when Haily plucked the marker from my hand. She hooked her arm through mine as Caleb and Joe walked past us, and then she was pulling me, the two of us following the two of them out the front doors of the school and to the parking lot, where I’d parked next to Caleb’s jeep, just like always. Caleb unlocked his doors, and I didn’t question it when we got inside. For a brief moment I met his eyes where I sat in the front seat, and then the four of us were driving away.