Indigo Creek

Chapter 1

Blue smoke covered the mountains as Dylan approached Indigo Creek. There wasn’t much about his hometown he liked, but he loved the view on the drive into town. He had stopped in Knoxville the night before, not wanting to arrive unannounced at his mother’s cabin in the middle of the night. She kept motion sensors on her driveway, and if they went off after dark, her first instinct was to grab the shotgun and shoot first. A few near misses when he was in high school had prompted her to load it with rock salt, but since he was supposed to be over two thousand miles away, she might have gone back to buckshot. Either way, he wasn’t stupid. He also dreaded telling her he was home for good—or at least for a while.

The radio blared an unrelenting string of love songs from the 90s. He wasn’t the biggest fan of country, but it was the only station he could pick up. He sighed and switched the radio off. That was the last thing he needed.

“Fuck him,” he muttered under his breath. He looked at the mountains as the first rays of morning sunlight peaked over their summit. For a moment, he forgot all about Derek and Ronnie and smiled for the first time in days.

As the miles passed, familiar landmarks let him know he was getting closer to town. Unless something had changed, his last chance for a pit stop would be a small convenience store at the base of the mountain.

He marveled at the growth and new stores. Though the town itself hadn’t grown, it seemed to have simply rearranged itself from the historic town center to the main road just outside of town. Part of him debated detouring through the old heart of the city, but that was a needless diversion, and would risk someone seeing him before he could tell his mother. The last thing he needed was her finding out from someone else that he was back. He’d rather roll the dice with the shotgun.

He pulled into a busy parking lot and sat in the car, hiding behind his sunglasses. To an outsider, the run-down exterior of the business would be more than a little off-putting, but he knew that without competition, they didn’t really have to care about appearances.

He watched people he had known in another life pass by him without a second glance. The whisper of familiarity brought everything back, and while he couldn’t remember most of the names, the faces haunted him. These were people he’d gone to school with, their families. People who had tormented him when he was outed. Not a single face, no matter how friendly they seemed now, had been friendly to him then.

A bell jingled when he opened the door and slipped in, heading towards the bathroom. He didn’t want his first words to his mother to be; I need to piss.

He forgot to put his sunglasses back on after leaving the dim bathroom. They sat on his head while he browsed through the store, getting his favorite soda because he knew she wouldn’t have it. His mother deplored soda, and only drank water or tea, though she would die if she knew he was aware of the bottle of whiskey she always kept hidden in the house, and suspected it was in her tea more often than not. When he saw recognition on the clerk’s face as he approached the counter, he realized his mistake. He froze, wishing he could slide his shades down, but knowing the attempt at deflection would not work. His mind raced, trying to match a name to the clerk’s face. A face that seemed to get redder as the seconds passed.

“Can I get a pack of Marlboros?”

A shy grin crept across the clerk’s face. “Dylan? I’d know those pretty grey eyes anywhere. I always thought they were like a storm, and when you were pissed off, I swore I could see lightning. Your mom didn’t say anything about you coming to town. I ask her how you’re doing every time I see her. Especially since Mike died. She told you, didn’t she?” His eyes dropped to the counter. “I told her to tell you he said he was sorry.”

Dylan felt the world screech to a halt around him. There was no sound. Nothing moved. Time itself seemed to stop. The man looked back up at him with the hint of a grin, and when he cocked his head, he knew exactly who it was, and his eyes went wide.

“Gabe? Yeah, she told me he was gone. Nothing about him being sorry, but that could have been my fault. I shut the conversation down. Old wounds…” His voice trailed off.

Gabe gave a solemn nod. “He was stupid to do that to you. I guess he thought it would make things easier on him after…”

Dylan shook his head. “I’m sorry, Gabe.” He paused. “I thought you were going to school and get out of this place. What are you doing here?”

Gabe waved his arm. “Parents wouldn’t let me play after I came out and wouldn’t help with paperwork for financial aid. No real scholarship chances, no grants. I was kinda stuck.”

Dylan’s heart sank. He knew he would have remembered her telling him about Gabe coming out and wondered why she hadn’t mentioned it to him. Someone behind him cleared his throat, and he realized a line was forming behind him. “I hate to hear that. I’ve got to run, but I’m sure I’ll see you soon.”

Gabe’s smile stretched to his eyes as Dylan swiped his card, and he could have sworn he saw his tan cheeks grow even redder. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Dylan climbed into his car and lit a cigarette, watching the man behind the counter. He had known he would run into Michael’s family. It was inevitable when you came to a small town. He hadn’t expected it to be Gabriel, though. Just like he hadn’t expected to start smoking again. He hadn’t smoked since he left, and he wondered if it was habit or stress that had led him to ask for a pack. Just another thing he knew he would have to unpack eventually—along with the fact that his first boyfriend’s little brother had just casually come out to him.