Chapter Twelve #2
River tosses his arms up in apparent frustration but goes without argument.
Scott, who watched the entire interaction, happily comes over with one of our ladders tucked under his arm.
I climb up the ladder with a smile and reach out for the strand of lights Tucker holds.
We work in tandem for a bit until the tree is fully decorated.
Once back on the ground, Tucker wraps his arms around my middle, hugging me tight against him, like being back on solid ground matters less than a hug from me does.
Someone whistles from near the lanterns, so we break apart, but I press a fleeting kiss to Tucker’s flushed cheek anyway.
When we join everyone in pulling the lanterns from their plastic sleeves, and placing them in staged plastic bins, Courtney is chatting up a confused-looking Orson.
Perhaps there is a match to be made here.
Tucker and I wiggle our eyebrows at each other before going over to take more lanterns out of the bins scattered around the picnic tables.
Boxes and boxes of lanterns and permanent markers line the tables. At least the weather will be perfect and the park locked down overnight so everything can stay staged.
“Hey, so, is there food or…?” Courtney calls out.
River whistles loudly, which has Gilbert jogging up with an expectant look.
“Yeah?” Gilbert asks.
We all stare in confusion, because what the hell? Did Gilbert just answer to a whistle? River looks anywhere but at Gilbert and asks, “The pizza?”
“Right,” Gilbert says eagerly, just before disappearing toward the parking lot.
He drags Scott with him, who looks just as confused as the rest of us.
I bend over to ask Tucker what’s going on but he furiously shakes his head, so I stay quiet, assuming now is not the time to ask anything about what the hell is going on with all… that.
Gilbert and Scott return sometime later with so many pizzas it’s almost impossible to see their faces.
And it takes literally moments for everyone to destroy over half of the pizzas.
Tucker doesn’t eat, which makes me feel bad, but he explains that he’s used to it and it gives him more stress to have people trying to find a meal for him in this sort of situation.
I decide to not eat in solidarity with him, but also in the hope of a make-out session later without needing to skip away to brush my teeth.
Not that it’s a bother to brush my teeth, I just don’t ever want Tucker to feel left out for something that he can’t help.
We wrap up preparing for the festival.
Courtney jogs over to me with a very pleased look on his face. “Hey, so, Orson invited me out with some of the other guys for beers. I’m going to go unless…”
“Nah, you go ahead. Tucker and I… Well…”
Courtney slaps me on the shoulder. “I get it, man, that’s why I’m taking the invite. I’ll be home late.”
Courtney backs away while wiggling his eyebrows. When he meets up with Orson, I watch as their shoulders brush as they walk. An interesting development that I’m not going to turn my nose up at.
Tucker and I head back to my house in comfortable silence. Soft ’90s country fills the cab and the cool night marsh blows through our hair as we ride home with the windows down. Halfway home is when I decide now is the best time to stupidly bring up our living arrangements.
“I like you being at my house,” I say into the dark of the cab.
Tucker turns slowly to look at me. “I like being at your house.”
“But I think you should stay with your parents most nights, for a while.”
I grip the steering wheel tight, expecting an argument, expecting something, but all Tucker does is shrug and say, “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yeah. I mean, I know why you’re doing it. You’re afraid to put pressure on me because of my last relationship. We can take it slow. Maybe I’ll stay over after guitar lessons and one night on the weekends. Is that okay?”
“Yes,” I say in amazement.
And that’s that apparently.
We sit in front of Tucker’s parents’ house for a while, both of us looking ahead. It’s not tension exactly, but something unsaid between us.
“Anthony never treated me the way you do.”
We don’t talk about his ex much, since I can pick up context clues, but I stay silent in hopes that Tucker will feel safe enough to talk to me.
After the minor grooming detail he shared earlier, I want him to feel safe enough to know that anything he says will be met not with derision at any choice he made, but anger that someone could treat him any other way but with love.
Tucker swallows roughly, the sound radiating through the silence of the truck. “It didn’t take long for his real side to show up, and by then I was invested and thought there wasn’t a way out. I felt trapped. Have you ever felt trapped, Charlie?”
“Yes.” I squeeze the steering wheel tight for a moment, anger and exhaustion warring in me at once.
“I worked as hard as I could as a teen so I could escape my parents, escape their home, just to enter into a career where I still couldn’t really be me.
Not without fear of losing everything. So, yes, I’ve felt trapped, and while it’s not the same, I understand why you stayed. ”
Tucker hums thoughtfully, that sound he makes when he’s about to drop a nuclear bomb on me. He lifts his hand to his mouth, those graceful pianist fingers dancing over his lips in thought.
“I knew you were different from that very first sunrise,” Tucker says softly, like he’s admitting some sort of state secret. “You’re kind and lovely, and I’m scared I’ll do something to fuck it up, since I’m low-key kind of a fuckup.”
“You’re not a fuckup,” I say, voice low, because he’s not. He’s human and he’s perfect. “I like you just the way you are.”
“I like you just the way you are too. And that scares me. You scare me, but in a good way.”
“All right.”
“I used to run from things that scared me, because there’s no way something good can last.”
“Please don’t run,” I beg him, my throat tight with fear.
Tucker reaches over to gently graze his fingers over my cheek. I turn my mouth into the palm of his hand, nuzzling the soft skin there before placing a gentle kiss. Tucker gasps softly, shivers, then smiles at me with tears in his eyes.
“I don’t think I could run from you if I tried. But be patient with me?”
“Always.”
He leans over the console to kiss me soft and slow, the dreamiest kind of kiss. I’m so glad I didn’t eat any pizza just so I can carry the memory of his lips with me all the way home.
Tucker’s megawatt smile as he hops out of the truck would bring me to my knees if I was standing.
I keep the truck idling, watching as he lets himself into the house, and I keep watching as he comes back to the front window to check if I’m still there.
He waves, but I can’t see his face in the dark.
I return the wave, back out of the driveway, and head home, wishing that it was responsible to move him in right now so I could wake up to him in my arms every morning.
I get to the park early the next day with a tired-looking Courtney in tow.
I want to spend a few moments alone with Tucker before the festival gets underway.
I find him under a tree with the fairy lights lit up.
His pink hair is gone, replaced with lime green.
I kind of miss the pink, but I was honest when I told him earlier that I’d like him no matter the color.
The lime green will grow on me, just in time for him to change it again.
At least it’s longer now after two months of growing.
It’s got a slight curl to it, and I’m very excited to see the curls come in all the way, if he’ll let them.
“Hi.” Tucker gives me a hello kiss, smelling like cotton candy. “You’re early.”
“You smell like cotton candy.”
Tucker snorts. “Scott’s daughter sprayed me with her new perfume because my hair color demands it, apparently.”
“Why did you say perfume like that?”
“It’s just body spray from a kids’ store, so can we really classify it as perfume?”
“I kind of like it,” I say lowly, curling my arm around his back and tugging him close.
Tucker lifts one eyebrow. “Oh, really?”
“Smells like I could eat you up.”
“Oh, you can eat me—”
“Gross!” River yells as he passes by. “Knock it off. Families are present.”
I chuckle and pull away from Tucker, despite never wanting to let him go. River comes back toward us with printed instructions in his hands.
“Here’s instructions for ticket scanning. The festival starts at seven on the dot.”
“I have a special guest arriving, but they’re not here yet,” Tucker says, craning his head around to look at the mostly empty parking lot. “Can I just let them in if they show or what?”
River gives Tucker a scathing glare. “Who is it?”
“Uhm.”
“Who?” River questions further.
“Just an old touring friend so we can play some music after the festival.”
River hums in disbelief, then toddles off to deal with something else at the festival. Tucker visibly relaxes and sighs in relief at not being pressed for more details. We tangle our fingers together and head toward the front entrance to start scanning tickets.
At least it’s a cool day. Everyone seems excited that a former Super Bowl winner is scanning their tickets, and I pose for more selfies than I expected.
But by six thirty, the cars are starting to dwindle and the parking lot is almost full.
Sunset is close, and I find myself getting excited at the idea of sharing this memory with Tucker.
I know it means a lot to him. The festival feels like a good way to kick off our official relationship.
Just when I’m about to suggest we call it a day, a blacked-out Mercedes G-Wagon pulls up to the curb with a screech. When the window rolls down, I’m shocked to see Nolan Hastings at the wheel, with a very attractive man in the passenger seat.
“Yellow,” Nolan says with his perfect smile. “Tucker summoned me.”