14. Lake of Eternal Fire

14

Lake of Eternal Fire

Four days later, I finished my final exam for the day and stared at the clock as it neared eleven fifty-seven. Since it was the last day of the semester, we were released early after our morning classes. Student government would stay behind to decorate for the winter dance tonight and sports teams would still practice. Other extracurricular activities were canceled until next month.

I’d never been more ready for winter break. This week had been a shitstorm, and the end could not come quickly enough.

Tuesday morning, I’d arrived at school to find my birthday locker in ruins. Streamers littered the ground in tattered pieces and popped balloons hung limp and lifeless from my locker door. The birthday message had been rearranged into offensive slurs.

Heartbroken, I’d cleaned up the mess while exuding artificial apathy over the vandalism. Ben was furious when he arrived at my locker as I dropped the last streamer into the trash bin, but I’d calmed him down before he’d lost his cool completely.

The destruction of my birthday locker was simply the icing on the cake of a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week.

Thanks to my panic attack Monday night, Ben had instigated distance between us. Literally.

I’d stopped by his house after work Wednesday night, and though we made out on his couch, making out was all we did. Clothes stayed on. Hands remained above the waist. Even when I made it very clear that I wanted to go further, he simply kissed me on the forehead and said, “Not tonight.”

Which, okay, I would never push him for anything more. But it didn’t feel like it was his choice; it felt like he was doing it for my benefit. He was handling me with kid gloves, and it pissed me off.

It was the first official fight we’d had since getting together.

“You’re treating me like a child,” I said as Ben leaned against the pool table, arms crossed over his chest.

“I am not. I’m simply taking precautions so you don’t suffer. How am I the bad guy, right now?”

Pacing in front of him, I tried to glare him down, but as usual, he wasn’t intimidated by me. “Because you’re acting like you know what’s best for me. Like you know better than I do what I can or can’t handle. It’s fucking insulting!”

“Well, one of us has to look out for your well-being,” he muttered, glaring down at the carpet, and oh, I wanted to smack him.

“You can be so pretentious sometimes,” I snapped back, and he rolled his eyes. “I’ve been looking out for myself for years. I don’t need you riding in like a knight in shining armor to rescue me.”

“You don’t always take care of yourself,” he said evenly, voice tight with forced calm.

I stopped pacing. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

He raked a hand through his hair and shook his head. “You push yourself all the time, because you don’t want to be seen as weak. And I get it, okay? Weakness paints an even bigger target on your back than what you already have. So you adapted to survive. I get it.” He met my furious gaze. “But even with me, you push and you push, like you think I don’t see you as one of the strongest people I’ve ever met. I don’t think you’re weak, and I never have.

“But the more you push, the more it can hurt you and me and us. I don’t want that to happen.” He took a breath, gripping the edge of the pool table until his knuckles whitened. “I don’t want to be an instrument in re-traumatizing you.”

“You can’t dictate how this goes,” I said, digging my heels in.

“Neither can you!” he said, throwing his hands in the air. “Jesus, Silas, I shouldn’t have to convince my boyfriend not to hurt himself.”

“And I shouldn’t have to convince my boyfriend to want me,” I said before I could stop myself, and Ben straightened.

I couldn’t bear to see the pity—or worse, the truth—in his eyes, so I looked away.

“You think this about want?” he asked, sounding equal parts hurt and exasperated.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I just... if you don’t want to fuck me, fine. Just say so.”

“How can you think I don’t want you?” he asked like it was the most preposterous thing he’d ever heard. “I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you, okay? For Pete’s sake, those gray sweatpants you wore yesterday were so distracting. It was unfair how you were just there, existing in those sweatpants, and I couldn’t do anything about it.”

The sharp one-eighty gave me whiplash, but I was here for it.

“What did you want to do about it?” I demanded, and his cheeks flushed.

“Just... all the things,” he admitted mournfully, and I laughed. He ducked his head and chuckled, refusing to look at me as I closed the distance between us.

“I think I’m gonna invest in more gray sweatpants,” I said as I knocked his knees apart and stepped between them. “I’m gonna wear them every day.”

“You’re evil,” he grumbled, even as his dimple appeared.

“Baby, I’m just getting started,” I purred, sliding my arms around his neck. “Was it my ass or my dick in those sweatpants that did it for you?”

His shoulders shook with laughter. “It was all just very nice.”

We laughed, and his forehead met mine, our noses brushing. The amusement didn’t last; our earlier conversation continued to hang over our heads. But my temper had cooled, and Ben was smiling softly.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” I said.

With a heavy exhale, the tension leaked out of his body. “I’m sorry I made you think you weren’t wanted or that I don’t trust you. I do trust you. I just don’t want to betray the trust you put in me when you offer me the very thing he tried to take from you.”

And if that didn’t just break my heart.

“Oh, Ben.” I popped onto my toes and crushed him to me. He buried his face in my neck, fingers fisting in the back of my shirt. I kissed his nape, inhaling chlorine and spring soap, and he held me tighter.

Instead of figuring out a solution to our problem like mature adults, we decided to make out on his bed. I started listing all the places I thought my gray sweatpants would look good in, like the backseat of his car or in between his sheets, until Ben shut me up with his mouth. We didn’t do much talking after that.

The bell rang, jogging me out of the memory, and I sprang to my feet and joined the flow of students rushing out of the classroom. Two whole glorious weeks free from school opened up before me as I stopped by my locker and filled my bag with anything I might need during holiday break.

Two weeks of sleeping in and holiday celebrations and Ben. I couldn’t wait.

I kissed Ben goodbye at my truck before he headed to practice

“I’ll see you tonight. Six o’clock. Look nice.” He punctuated each statement with a kiss, and I smiled against his mouth.

“I was planning on wearing my pajamas, but I guess I’ll figure something else out,” I teased.

He poked my side with a playful wink. “Sass.”

“Always.”

With one last kiss, he squeezed my hand, then headed toward the gym. I drove home, imagining all the ways I could get Ben naked after the winter dance. Dad wasn’t coming home until tomorrow, so we’d have the house to ourselves tonight, and I had plans.

But first I had to shower and find something to wear.

After dumping half my wardrobe on the bed, I wasted an embarrassing amount of time sifting through the clothes. I wasn’t renting a stupid tux for this, but Ben was looking forward to the dance and I didn’t want to ruin it by being a stick in the mud. I wanted him to have a good time, and that meant putting in at least a forty percent effort to look presentable.

Once I had it narrowed down to two outfits, I took a break and showered. Thoroughly. You know, just in case.

I blow-dried my hair and shaved what little facial hair I had. I even broke out the cologne that my dad had given me last Christmas.

Studying my reflection, I traced the mark Ben had sucked into my shoulder, then the jut of my collarbones. I’d always been kind of scrawny, but I’d filled out a little in the past year. I couldn’t pull off a Speedo like Ben could, and my stomach was soft and squishy.

Weak , the evil voice in my head said.

“Ben likes you” I told my reflection.

My reflection grimaced. Because I realized I was standing in front of my mirror, flexing pathetically, as I contemplated my level of attractiveness.

“Ew,” my reflection and I said to each other.

Thankfully, my phone rang, ending the insecurity crisis, and I hurriedly tugged on a pair of orange boxers before answering the video call.

“Esther” I crowed as my screen filled with dark hair streaked with purple.

Esther’s hazel eyes widened, expression contorting in horror. “Oh my God, are you naked?”

“Why? Do you want me to be?” I waggled my eyebrows, and she scowled.

“Gross,” she said.

Then she hung up.

Trying to swallow my laughter, I called her back.

“I’m not going to talk to you if you’re naked,” she said in lieu of a greeting.

“I’m not naked.” I turned my phone to show off my orange underwear. “See?”

“You look like a traffic cone,” she deadpanned.

I pouted. “Now you’re just trying to hurt my feelings.”

The corner of her mouth lifted in a smile, and I took it for the win it was.

Ever since we met a month ago, I had made it my life’s mission to make her my best friend. It was slow going, but we were getting there. It was kind of nice to have queer friends. Not that I didn’t love Kim and the others, but it was nice realizing I wasn’t the only queer person in a hundred mile radius.

“I need your advice,” she admitted grudgingly, and I beamed at her.

“Why yes, I do suggest you dump Ronnie and join Ben and I in a polyamorous threesome,” I said seriously. “Now, you and I will have to be platonic because I don’t like girls. But Ben is more flexible, so we can make it work.”

“We could just be a polyamorous foursome,” she suggested, brushing a curl out of her eyes. “Then I won’t have to dump Ronnie.”

I made a face. “I don’t think Ronnie would fit.”

“Because he’s tall?” she joked.

“Either that or I made an unintentional size joke about his dick.” I gagged, and she laughed, the crests of her cheeks darkening with a subtle blush.

“Silas, focus, I called you for a reason.”

“Sorry, sorry. I’m focused. What do you need, Ez?”

She fumbled with her phone before the camera switched from Selfie mode to Front mode. Her face was replaced with a full length mirror, showing her reflection. She wore a strappy purple dress that flowed like water, pooling around her bare feet.

“It doesn’t fit right,” she said.

And sure, she wasn’t wrong. It had been made for a different body type, after all. Extra material hung loose at her flat chest, and the straps stretched over her broader shoulders. Even then, she still looked beautiful.

I told her so, and she scoffed.

“It doesn’t look right, Silas,” she insisted, and I searched for the right words to say.

“Just because it fits differently doesn’t mean it fits wrong,” I said gently. “You look so nice, and Ronnie is gonna freak. He’ll love it.”

Her reflection chewed on her bottom lip. “People will stare.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “But they’re gonna stare at me and Ben too. That’s not gonna stop me from holding his hand or kissing him on the dance floor, though.”

“I shouldn’t care,” she said, returning the camera to Selfie mode. “But sometimes it just sucks.”

“How do you feel in the dress?” I asked, and her eyes shot up and over the phone. “Not how you feel when you look in the mirror. Look at me,” I said firmly, and she obeyed, meeting my eyes through the phone. “Esther Matilda, how do you feel in that dress?”

“My middle name’s not Matilda.”

“Ezzy!”

Her expression softened into something shy and sweet. “Pretty.”

“Then wear it, and fuck everyone else.”

Her husky chuckle eased the tension in my stomach, and she smiled fully at me. “Thanks, Silas.”

“Anytime, sweetie.”

Rolling her eyes, she blinked away the sheen of moisture gathering there. “So what are you wearing?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” I said dramatically.

I copied her and switched camera angles, facing the final contenders. “We have Nerdy Virgin,” I said as I highlighted the first outfit, a white polo shirt under a maroon sweater over khaki slacks. “Or Catholic School Boy.” The second was the only button-up shirt I owned—black—paired with skinny jeans and rainbow suspenders—a gag gift from my brother.

She chuckled at my inventive titles. “They both look nice. The maroon is a good color on you, but I like the rainbow suspenders.”

“Those were mostly there to embarrass Ben. Revenge for making me go to this debacle.”

“I think they’re great.” She smiled as I swapped the camera back to my face. “I vote rainbow suspenders.”

I blew her a kiss. “Girl after my own heart. That’s why we’re kindred spirits.”

“You’re so weird.” Her pleased smile belied her words. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Okay, see you later.”

We rang off, and I dressed in the Catholic School Boy outfit, clicking the rainbow suspenders into place for the final touch. I returned to the bathroom to check the final look.

“Not bad,” I told Reflection Silas. “Not bad at all.”

To complete the outfit, I searched for the dress shoes I’d worn to Sadie’s wedding last spring. Delving into my closet, I shoved aside old clothes, empty shoe boxes, and a plastic container full of Legos that I pretended I didn’t still play with. Somehow, my dress shoes had made themselves at home in the farthest corner of the closet underneath some misplaced clothing.

I reached out to move the shirt and jeans aside, but I froze an inch away. I recognized the clothes, and my ears buzzed. A faucet leaked. Eric squeezed the back of my neck as he loosened his belt.

Scrambling out of the closet, I crab-walked backward until my back met the bed. I breathed in through my nose, exhaling through pursed lips. I rubbed at the worn carpet, trying to ground myself to this place and time.

The bathroom receded, and I heaved a shaky sigh of relief.

They’re just clothes, my brain said, but it sounded like a lie.

Slatted doors hung open mockingly, inviting me into the gaping maw of the closet. I shook my head like I was answering a question that hadn’t been asked.

I knee-walked to the threshold but couldn’t bring myself to go further. With a grunt of frustration, I dug my phone out of my pocket and clicked on Ben’s contact. The line rang twice before it clicked.

“If you’re calling to weasel yourself out of going to the dance with me,” Ben said the moment he answered, “I will come and drag you out of your house, pajamas be damned.”

“Ben,” I said softly, and his annoyed mumbles stopped.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, tone instantly serious.

“No,” I rushed out. “No, nothing’s wrong. I just... need to do something, but I don’t want to, so I thought—I don’t know what I thought. I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“Okay?”

The line fell silent for several long seconds.

“Si, what’s going on?”

Clearing my throat, I scooted closer to the closet. “I found some clothes. The clothes. From that day, uh, in the bathroom.” I could practically feel his tension through the phone. “I’m okay. I just feel like I should do something with them, but I don’t know what to do.”

Ben swallowed, throat clicking. “What do you want to do with them?”

“Throw them into a lake of eternal fire,” I answered immediately, and he snorted.

“Damn, I left my lake of eternal fire in California.”

“You’re a terrible boyfriend.”

He chuckled again, and I managed to smile. “Since we don’t have a lake of eternal fire at our disposal, what else do you want to do with them?”

“Throw them away, I think. Seems wasteful, but…”

“Then throw them away. Or donate them, if you want to be socially conscious.”

I thought of the Goodwill donation pile Dad and I kept in the basement next to the laundry. “Yeah, I can do that.”

“Okay. Do you want me to come over? We can do it together.”

I shook my head, but since he couldn’t see me, I answered aloud. “No, I can do it. I can do it. But maybe... maybe you could stay on the phone with me?”

I heard his smile through the phone. “Of course I’ll stay on the phone with you.”

“Okay.” I took a fortifying breath. “Fuck these clothes. I can do this.”

“Yes, you can.”

“I don’t want to,” I admitted.

“I know.”

“But I can,” I said.

And he said, “I know that too.”

That made me pause, and I grinned, a little manically. “You’re my favorite person in the whole world. You know that, right?”

“I, uh, I do now,” he said shyly, and I wished he was here so I could kiss his face off. “You’re my favorite person too.”

To dispel the tension, I said, “We should have phone sex now.”

Ben burst into laughter. “What?”

“It’s a good distraction, and we just confessed mushy feelings. Seems like phone sex is the natural next step.”

I crawled back into the closet as he laughed in my ear. “Well, I’m already not wearing pants, so it really would be a missed opportunity.”

“You’re not wearing pants? Seriously?” I kept my tone easy as I reached out and closed my fingers around the hem of the shirt, hooking my pinkie in the belt loop of the jeans. “I can get behind that.”

As I scooched out of the closet, Ben said, “I was getting dressed when you called, hence the no-pants. Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“Never.” I wobbled to my feet, phone in one hand, the cursed clothing in the other. “What color’s your underwear.”

“Blue.”

“Boring. Mine’s orange. Ezzy said I looked like a traffic cone,” I said as I walked toward the stairs, holding the clothes at arm’s length.

“Why is Esther seeing you in your underwear?” he asked pointedly.

“You jealous?” I teased.

“Honestly, a little.”

“I can show you my underwear tonight if you want.”

I made my way through the house, shouldering the door to the basement open. The stairs were narrower here, and I had to steady myself on the wall. A whiff of cologne hit me, drifting from the clothes, and my stomach cramped.

“You propositioning me, Brigs?”

At the base of the stairs, I released the breath I’d been holding. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

“One-track mind,” he mused.

“I’m a teenage boy. It’s kind of in the job description.” Locating the pile of clothes dedicated to Goodwill, I shoved the shirt and jeans into the mix, burying them deep enough I couldn’t see them. “Done.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. They’re in the Goodwill pile. It’s done.”

“Good job, babe.”

I froze on the bottom step. “Babe?”

Ben blew a raspberry. “Yeah, not gonna lie, it felt weird coming out of my mouth.”

There was a short pause before we spoke at the same time.

“That’s what she said.”

And then we melted into laughter.

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