“Thank you,” I said. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”
Anders slowed his pace as his car came into view. He released me, only to grip his hands on my waist. He was silent for two, three long seconds before he kissed my forehead. His lips had always been too soft.
“Yes, you could have. You’re brilliant. I’m just a salesman.”
He let go of me, pulling his keys from his pants pocket. His BMW chirped twice. “See you at eight.”
I wished I could get in his car, tell him to cancel his appointment, and come home with me. I wished I could give him my hands, my skin—my mouth. I wanted to be capable of loving him more than I loved what could have been. I thought about the story I wrote, the book about the boys who fell in love with each other despite the odds, only to be ripped apart by the permanence of dirt and worms. I wished for a tombstone to visit. Maybe then I could see beyond the wall built by nine years of what ifs.
A loud clap of thunder warned me I was too late, and the sky opened with fat, cool drops that soaked the sidewalk. I held my bag to my chest and ran under the nearest awning. My hair dripped down my cheeks and I laughed as I noticed one of those old metal newspaper boxes by the front door of the shop. A local arts magazine sat on top of it with a face on the cover. My face. Flat brown eyes stared back at me from the page. Another headline. Love Always, Wild Debuts at Number Three. I could try to wish him away, but the fact remained, that without him, without the pain of Jax, this success, this story might have never been.
I pulled my phone from my pocket and opened my contacts list.
The phone rang three times before he answered. “Miss me already?”
“June can’t make it,” I lied.
“Oh…” I heard his intake of breath. “Do you want to reschedule?”
The rainwater poured off the awning in reverberant sheets. A car horn honked somewhere in the distance, and the outline of the book he’d given me pressed against my hip through my satchel. I had to leave Jax there, leave him in Eastchester, leave him as ink and paper and pen. Time wouldn’t stand still, not for me, not for Anders, and not for Jax.
“No.”
“Just me and you, then?” he asked.
“Yeah… I guess it is.”
JAX
“Come on, Jason, we have to go,” I said, picking up the beach towel and shaking out the sand.
The small, salty grains stuck to my bare chest as the wind chilled the air. The thunderheads above had moved in about ten minutes ago, and if we didn’t start packing up, we’d get stuck in the storm.
“Aw, Jax. Can I have a few more minutes?” Jason shielded his eyes from the dimming summer sun as he looked at me. “It’s almost exactly how I want it.”
“I don’t think Mother Nature is gonna wait, buddy.”
My little brother let the heavy clumps of sand drip through his fingers as he got back to work on his sandcastle. I had to admit he was pretty good at this shit. The lady who’d been eye-fucking me all day stared at our interaction. She looked confused, and it pissed me off even though I was used to it. But if I were in her shoes, I might’ve stared too. People in Bell River already knew my story. Jason’s story. The disrespectful glances that led to full-on gawking only happened when we ventured outside the safety of our small town.
A flash of lightning lit up the sky, and my brother jumped to his feet. He slammed his hands over his ears and started hollering. I swore under my breath and grabbed the buckets, leaving the shovels to fend for themselves.
“It’s just lightning, Jay.”
I tried to talk to him like the adult that he was. I always tried to give him that much. But when your brain was stuck at a fifth-grade level, I supposed lightning was one of the scariest things in the world. It didn’t help matters much it’d been storming the night everything in our lives imploded. Another crack of thunder, and Jason ran for the car. Maybe nine years ago I would’ve laughed at him, called him a pussy or something equally offensive. But things had changed the day my dad decided to drive drunk.
“Hold up,” I called as I ran after him.
The car was unlocked, and he practically threw himself into the passenger seat. Laughing, I opened the driver-side door. “You’re lucky this car is a piece of shit, Jay. You got sand everywhere.”
“Mom says it’s unchristian to swear.” He blinked his big blue eyes as the rain started to pummel the windshield.
I shoved the key into the ignition and turned it. Nothing happened. “Goddamn it.” Slamming my hand onto the dashboard, I swore again, instantly regretting my behavior as Jason curled in on himself. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to scare you.” He wouldn’t look at me. “I’m sorry, okay.” Taking a deep breath, I held up my hands. “See… calm as a cucumber.”
He chuckled, and I knew I’d fixed it. “Cucumbers are gross.”
“I guess that means I’m gross too.”
“Why do you swear so much?” he asked, clipping his seatbelt into place.
I turned the key again and the engine clicked a few times. “Just start already,” I grumbled to myself, ignoring his question. After a few more tries I exhaled and shoved an angry hand through my hair. “Because… Jay,” I finally answered. “Sometimes… people got all kinds of bad stuff inside them, and it’s hard to hide it. Sometimes people are mean and sometimes they swear.”
“But you’re not mean or bad.”
“You’re just saying that ’cause you’re my kid brother.”
His innocence was probably the only good thing his accident had left behind. He didn’t know the bad things inside of me. No one did. I closed my eyes as his name flooded my brain. Wilder. I’ve never loved something more dangerous than Wild. And I never would again. That chapter in my life was a history I couldn’t ever bring to light. The feelings I had for him were wrong, no matter how much I wanted to deny it. What we’d done, even if it was out of love, was wrong. My father’s death, the accident, taught me that. I’d been told my whole life that sinners would be judged. That punishment was a grace of God showing you the way of the Lord when you strayed too far from His path. I never used to believe, and maybe I still didn’t, but it was the only thing I had left to hold on to. My junior year of college I’d fallen in love with a guy. A guy who saw sides of me I’d learned to lock up tight. Wilder was everything to me. Everything. Hell, I’d almost brought him home with me over that winter break. I’d wanted my parents to see how happy I was, and maybe then they wouldn’t hate the idea of having a gay son. I’d wanted to come out to them the day before Christmas because I figured you couldn’t hate anyone on Christ’s birthday. But that chance had been stolen by a six pack of beer and a late afternoon storm.
Dad and Jason had gone fishing, and like always, my dad drank too much. Jason had just gotten his license that year, but there was no way in hell Dad would have let him drive his precious Cadillac. He took a corner too fast, crashed the car down the embankment into Bell River. They’d said my dad died on impact because he wasn’t wearing a seatbelt. Jason had been submerged under water for at least five minutes. They’d had to bring him back to life. When Mom and I got to the hospital, they wouldn’t let us see him at first. To this day, I could feel the ache of the hard, cold hospital floor on my knees, and on some days, hear the Christmas songs that had played softly over the hospital intercom speakers. Mom and I had prayed that night. I’d asked God to bring my brother home. I promised I’d be better. If He’d just give me Jason, I could let go of Wilder. The course of our lives had been irrevocably altered that night. Jason had what they’d called an anoxic brain injury. Because he’d been without air for so long in the water, his brain had started to die. He used to be better than me at playing basketball, got good grades too, had his sights set on Duke University. Now he was a twenty-five-year-old who made sandcastles, and I couldn’t get my fucking car to start.