Chapter 11 - BlueEthan
Chapter 11
Blue
Ethan is quiet as we weave our way through throngs of tourists on the busy sidewalk in search of breakfast. Somehow, he seems even more introspective than he was when I left him with his coffee to mull over our conversation while I showered. I think I managed to lighten the mood just a bit by having our tie-dyed whatever it is around my neck as a cape when he emerged from the bathroom, but that levity quickly faded once we were in the car and making our way downtown. I’m sort of afraid that I broke him. I really thought that if it was something he hadn’t ever considered, it might be helpful for him to realize that nothing is wrong with him. He’s not strange or alone in the way he feels things; he’s just a bit…atypical. I’m sure he just needs some more time to process, but I feel like I’ve put a damper on our weekend, and I don’t want that for him, so I’m going to do everything I can to ensure he still has a good time today .
I let my knuckles brush against his briefly as we walk. “You okay?”
When he glances over at me, he smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He seems almost…sad. “I’m good. Just overwhelmed. I did some research when you were in the shower, and it’s just sort of a trip, you know. I’ve spent my whole life thinking that something is wrong with me, and it turns out there probably isn’t. Which is a good thing, of course; it’s just a bit surreal. I think you were right about me, about all of it. I want love and sex and romance, and no matter how badly dating has gone for me in the past, I’ve always kept hoping that I might find those things one day. It’s just a shock to realize that I’ve probably been going about everything the wrong way. I’ve spent my whole life unaware of this huge part of my identity, and now it’s like I have to redefine myself completely. I need some time to really figure out how this fits for me, but it feels like I can breathe for the first time in years.”
“You don’t have to let it define or redefine you, Ethan. You’re still the same person you were when you woke up this morning. You’re still the same person I met at the coffee shop a few months ago. People are much more than the compilation of all the labels that can be used to identify us. You are so much more.”
“No, I know that.” He pauses in thought for a moment. “It’s just that being able to finally understand myself after so many years of confusion is overwhelming. I’ve come so close to giving up so many times, and while I’m relieved and excited, it’s just an astonishingly huge thing to realize that if I just adjust the way I look at dating a bit, I might actually be able to find the things I’ve always wanted.”
I’m trying my best not to get my hopes up, but if he really is demi, and he’s open to the idea of a relationship one day, maybe our friendship can become something more. I don’t know how I got to this point. The guy who doesn’t believe in love and relationships holding out hope that his friend might fall in love with him one day, but here I am, and no matter how pathetic I feel, I don’t think it’s the kind of thing I can just talk myself out of. I want Ethan, and I want him to want me back. If he never does, then I still want his friendship, of course, but the tiny fragment of my heart that likes the idea of romance, the teensy piece of my soul I thought I’d managed to bury years ago, has sparked back to life and is holding out hope for more. Hope is such a stupid, dangerous thing.
“We need to be back here at five for Gabriel’s show, but I know you’re not really a fan of crowds. Since you’re already overwhelmed this morning, if you’re up for it, would you let me take you somewhere a bit less crowded for a few hours instead?”
It only takes the one small suggestion and he suddenly doesn’t look sad anymore, and my stupid breath catches at the way the freckles on his nose crinkle up when he smiles at me .
“You know what, I’d love that.”
We give up the search for breakfast and make our way back to the car. It takes us nearly twenty minutes to navigate through congested tourist traffic before a tiny little bakery truck parked beside a large green Victorian home comes into view.
“Wait here for me?”
Ethan just nods with a shy smile. “Always.”
It takes me the entire seventeen-minute wait to convince my poor heart that it was just a figure of speech. He didn’t really mean that he’ll always be around, waiting for me.
A box of pastries, two coffees, two bottled waters, and thirty more minutes of driving through dim, narrow streets lined with forests so dense that only stray rays of light streak through and reach the asphalt later, I pull over into a seemingly abandoned parking lot. There is one other car, an old, decrepit thing that looks as if it was abandoned years ago, and the gravel crunching under our tires is nearly covered with rust-red pine needles and thick patches of emerald moss. There are no people to be seen or heard and no signs of civilization other than the decaying car and a small wooden trailhead marker whose paint peeled away long ago, leaving only a silvered cedar post and a small metal plaque bearing the trail’s name .
Pale autumn light fights its way through towering evergreens, and a chilly mist hovers thickly in the air, beading up lightly on my skin as soon as we step out of the car. The heady, familiar scent of salt and redwood and pine settles heavily into my lungs.
“Why are we in the woods?” Ethan’s voice sounds relaxed, but when he puts it that way, it does seem a tad…murdery.
Forests this dense and thick and alive have always felt like the acoustic opposite of large grand cathedrals to me. Something about them seems to absorb and soften even the loudest of sounds, and the laugh that bursts from my chest seems quiet and subdued. Small amidst the grandeur that surrounds us.
“Okay, I get that it might seem a little odd coming all the way out here to walk through some trees when trees are literally everywhere in Washington, but there is just something about these old-growth forests that has always been peaceful to me. Even when I was a kid, whenever the world got to be a bit too loud or overpowering, I’d take off into the woods and just sit and listen and feel. I come here to lose myself…maybe to find myself, and I think maybe you could use a few minutes like that.”
Once again, I’ve let all of my thoughts escape without censor .
“It’s perfect,” Ethan says without hesitation, and relief rushes through me as I gather up the remains of my coffee and our waters before locking the car and following Ethan toward the trail.
We walk in silence for so long that I forget anything else exists. There is nothing in the world other than the scent of damp earth and the whisper of the redwoods and the crunch of bark and twigs and pine needles under our feet. I don’t know how far we walk before Ethan turns off the path and into a small clearing to settle on a bench that feels as old as the forest itself. Though it looks as if it’s grown up from the forest floor, it must have been installed years ago when the trailhead was originally cut.
We sit close enough that the heat from his thigh soaks into mine, and it’s all I can do to stop my fingers from reaching out to play with his.
“This is what I do with my weekends.” The serenity in Ethan’s voice surprises me, given that the reason we’re out here is because he needed a momentary break from reality.
“You come to the woods?” My voice comes out a little too loud, a little too shocked, but I can’t hide the tiny burst of excitement that rushes through me at the fact we both spend our free time doing the same thing. Maybe he’ll want to do this again sometime. It’s yet another item on the growing list of things we have in common even though we’re such different people, and with each one, it becomes harder and harder to tell myself that it’s normal for people to like similar things rather than believing it’s proof we’re perfect for one another.
He nods without looking in my direction. “Mmm.It’s grounding and balancing in a way that makes me feel somehow both small and unimportant while still reminding me just how vast and miraculous the universe is. In places like this, I’m no different than any other living thing in existence. No better, no worse. My problems are no harder to solve, no easier to dismiss. I find that comforting somehow.”
He takes a long, shuddering breath before continuing. “Thank you, Blue. Thank you for bringing me here, for inviting me this weekend, for opening my eyes this morning. Thank you for accepting me into your life as if I’m worth taking a chance on. I haven’t had a lot of that, and it means more than you know.”
I lose the battle with my fingers and settle them lightly on his thigh.
“It’s my pleasure. All of it.”
We’re quiet again for a long while as we listen to the simple sounds of life swirling around us.
“Do you not have any family?” It’s the first time I’ve plucked up the courage to ask anything truly personal, and I’m terrified that asking might break the quiet feeling of contentment that’s settled around us, but I want to know Ethan. I want to know everything about him. He’s opened up in so many ways over the past few months, but something about the way he always seems to hide behind his professional smile and the skillful methods he employs to deftly shift conversations when they turn personal has always left me feeling like pushing for answers might scare him away. He’s let me see him this weekend, the complete, authentic, unfiltered reality of him, and if I’m really lucky, maybe he won’t shut my question down. Maybe he’ll let me just a bit further into his life.
“Not really. I mean, my dad's alive and all, but we don't talk much, and I haven't seen him in more than a decade.”
“God, you had to have been what, nineteen or twenty that long ago? What happened?”
He shifts slightly, turning to face me as his brows furrow. His eyes are the color of the life that surrounds us. They’re constantly shifting depending on his moods and the light we happen to be in at any given moment. I never tire of watching them transition from moss to fern to redwood. I’ve seen them appear to be sage and emerald and every color in between, but for a moment, the light in his eyes seems to dim, and they appear darker than even the blackest pine. I’ve pushed too hard. Clearly, it’s not something he wants to talk about.
“You know what. I’m sorry. That’s none of my business. ”
“No, it’s…it's okay. I’ve never…I’ve never told anyone, but then again, I’ve been on my own for so long, I’ve never really had anyone to tell.”
My thumb idly rubs along his jeans where my hand rests on his thigh while I wait for him to decide how he wants to continue. Obviously, whatever happened wasn’t great if he left home alone as a teenager, and to have been without any kind of support for more than a decade is something I can’t even imagine. I honestly don’t know what would have become of me if Gabriel hadn’t taken me under his wing.
When he finally speaks, the hushed and intimate sound of his voice seems to vibrate along my skin. “When I was seventeen, I realized I was in love with my best friend. My male best friend, Jordyn.”
One sentence, and it already feels like I know where his story is going. Yet another kid cast aside like they're nothing because they didn't grow up to match the precise image their parents envision.
“I’m from this tiny Alaskan town where there isn’t much to do outside of school and work, and as far as I knew at the time, I was the only queer person in town. Jordyn and I were inseparable. We used to spend our free time hiking and messing around doing stupid things like competing to see who could throw sticks the farthest in forests not much different from this. We never had set plans, never went out with the intention of catching fish or running twenty miles or anything; we just hung out and enjoyed each other’s company. We met when we were little kids, and it’s how we spent all our time as far back as I can remember. When I finally got up the nerve to tell him my feelings for him had changed, I was prepared to lose him. I'd never been so terrified in my life, but he smiled and slipped his fingers through mine and kissed me right there in the middle of the woods. I'll never forget the warmth of his lips against mine in the cold spring air as the sound of crickets and the scent of pine surrounded us when he told me he felt the same way. We spent the next seven months stealing away whenever we could to spend time together.”
Ethan’s laugh is soft and distant, his heart lost in memories.
“We were us , just like we’d been since we were little, and yet we were so unbelievably different. We were two young, stupid, fumbling kids learning what it was like to fall in love together.”
The sigh that slips from him is filled with pain, and I desperately want to lift it from him even though I know that I can’t. All I can do is sit here at his side and listen to his heart break over old wounds not yet scarred over.
“Three weeks before I turned eighteen, my mom died.I was drowning in grief, and for months, Jordyn held me while I cried. I clung to him, and the way he loved me helped me remember that I still had life left to live. It helped me hold onto the thought that one day, the memory of her love would overpower the ache and loss. He’d remind me every day that I wasn’t alone. He’d remind me what it meant to feel human even when I was certain that I’d never be the same again. I still think that’s true to some extent - I won’t ever be the same again. I’ve learned to live with my losses, but they’ve changed me. I won’t ever be the person I was before she died.”
I don’t know how to help him. His pain is old, yet somehow, it feels like he’s still drowning in it. His body is tense at my side, and his fingers are curled tightly around my own. It’s so intense that it’s radiating off him in waves, and all I have to offer are my own pathetic thoughts, the ideas that kept me moving forward during the moments of darkness and pain that I once thought would swallow me up completely.
“I don’t think any of us are ever the same once we’ve known pain like that, sweetheart, but in some ways, I think maybe that’s a good thing. Hurt and grief and loss, they change us, but they remind us of what’s important. They remind us to love and to laugh and to live because there has to be more to life than heartbreak and sorrow.”
Ethan’s hand is trembling, and his voice breaks as he continues.
“Four months later, I told Jordyn I loved him and that I wanted to tell my dad about us. I told him I wanted us to be together.”