17. Soft, Gooey Center
17
Soft, Gooey Center
We left the mall around four in the morning, and I nearly fell asleep on the drive home. I roused when Ben pulled into his driveway, parking beside Ronnie’s rusty Plymouth Neon. I thought he was going to take me to my house, but I was too tired to complain as we all crawled out of the car and headed inside.
I stopped in Ben’s bathroom to pee before taking refuge in his bed. Except I couldn’t, because Ben, Esther, and Ronnie were already hogging the damn thing.
“Hey!” I barked, snagging the pillow from underneath Ronnie’s head and smacking him with it. “Move! I wanna sleep too.”
“There’s room,” Ronnie groaned, flipping me the bird, and I hit him with the pillow again. “Dude!” His head shot up, and he glared, his face more boyish without his glasses. “Just get your ass in the bed.”
“I’m not having a threesome with you two,” I said, even as I obeyed, purposefully digging my elbows and knees into Ronnie’s back as I crawled over him.
Esther was already snoring, her sweater-dress riding up her thighs. Ben was crowded up against the wall, leaving the tiniest spot for me to fit between him and Esther. My heart pounded in my ears as I wriggled into the space, forcing myself to face Esther and not Ben. Lying this close to him was already a test of my self-control, and I didn’t want to tempt Fate.
With a sigh, that couldn’t have been disappointment—because it just couldn’t —Ben curled up at my back, his hands pressing into my spine. His every exhale ghosted over the back of my neck, and if I wasn’t already half-unconscious, I probably could have popped wood from the shiver-inducing sensation.
As it was, I closed my eyes and surrendered to sleep.
Hours later, I woke with Esther’s hair clogging my nose and one of Ben’s arms wrapped around my middle. He was breathing heavily into my shoulder, and Esther was snuggled into my chest. Ronnie lay star-fished across the rest of the mattress, taking up more of the bed then Ben, Esther, and I combined. The body heat was borderline uncomfortable, but I didn’t want to wake either of them by moving.
Esther shifted, her leg slipping between mine, and I stiffened when something hard pressed against my thigh. Since it was morning, I was hard too, so I wasn’t gonna judge. But I had a feeling Esther might feel differently.
Lying in a hot, awkward pile, I tried to ignore her hard-on and go back to sleep. But then she moved again, and I felt her body slowly stiffen as she woke up. She lifted her head and peeked up at me, the light from the bathroom painting her face in shadow. Our eyes met, and she swallowed thickly, scooting back an inch.
“Sorry,” she whispered.
“No biggie,” I said.
She made a face, and I captured her chin gently to stop her from looking away. Her eyes glittered in the dim lighting, and for a moment, she looked like she might cry.
“It’s cool,” I insisted, and she swallowed heavily.
“You knew,” she said, and it wasn’t a question. “When we first met, you clocked me, didn’t you?”
I wasn’t sure how I could answer that without possibly hurting her feelings. Not everyone cared about passing, but it was important for some people. And whether I’d clocked her or not, it wasn’t my place to make assumptions about her identity.
I finally settled on, “I didn’t want to assume anything.”
A harsh breath puffed from her nose. “I know I don’t pass.”
Brushing a chunk of purple hair from her forehead, I asked, “Does that matter to you?”
“Sometimes.”
“Sorry.”
She shrugged. “That’s life, I guess.”
Our words faded into the shadows, and we listened to Ronnie and Ben snore for a long time.
“They were from my school,” she said at long last. “Those kids at the mall. They go to my school. I came back from the summer with a new name, and they use it like a slur.”
“That’s fucked up.” I took her hand and squeezed. “Is your family supportive?”
Her laugh cut through the darkness, sharp and bitter. “My dad’s trying; I know he is. But he’s the youth pastor at our church, and there’s expectations, you know?”
Nothing I could say would make it better, so I remained quiet.
“Mom pretends that nothing’s different, like I’m invisible. She doesn’t see me, so I’m this ghost of her son instead of her living, breathing daughter.”
“I’m so fucking sorry,” I said, twining our fingers together. She squeezed until my bones protested, but I didn’t let her go.
She hummed, a warm smile curling the edges of her mouth. “Huh, Ben was right about you.”
“About what? That I’m not nice?” I demanded, thinking back on Ben’s swim meet and his warning for me to be nice to Esther.
Turning her head into the bedding, she muffled a laugh. “No, I meant your good heart.”
“What?”
She shrugged. “He said that you’re a little prickly on the outside, but that you have a good heart. And he’s right. I see why he likes you.”
The words burrowed into my chest, adding fuel to the fire crackling there. “I don’t,” I said, because it was the truth.
Her responding smile was sad. “Because he sees what I see.”
“What do you see?” I whispered, almost afraid of the answer.
“Your soft, gooey center,” she said, and I snorted.
“If this is your way of offering to lick my Tootsie Pop, I’m gonna stop you right there. I don’t like girls.”
I chuckled quietly as she playfully punched my chest. “Shut up.”
We shared hushed laughter until it faded away, the room falling once more into silence only broken by snores. Except the atmosphere had changed because there was only one person snoring now.
And it wasn’t Ben.
A few hours later, I followed Ronnie and Esther to Ronnie’s car, rubbing the exhaustion from my eyes. Ben walked beside me, his elbow brushing mine with every step.
Before I could crawl into the Neon’s backseat, Ben said, “You’re still coming to the party tomorrow, right?”
Oh, right. Alice’s party.
I grimaced, but Ben’s eyes were pleading, and I was clearly a sucker for him. So I said, “Yeah, I’m coming. Someone’s gotta protect your virtue.”
He rolled his eyes but still smiled in victory. “Cool. Be at Kim’s around eight, then.”
“I’ll be there.”
As Ronnie drove me home, I stared out the window, watching naked trees stretching their limbs to the gray sky.
“Are you coming to the party?” I asked Esther as Ronnie pulled into my driveway.
She shook her head. “I’m not really allowed to go to those kinds of parties.”
“Neither am I. That’s why I lied and told my dad I was staying the night at Kim’s.”
“Maybe next time,” she said diplomatically, and I shrugged.
“Okay.” I leaned in between the front seats and pecked her cheek. “See you later.”
I turned to Ronnie to thank him for driving me home, but he held up a hand. “You don’t need to kiss me.”
“Rude.”
I climbed out of the car and waved as Ronnie backed out of the driveway. Ronnie honked twice before driving off, and I forced my heavy feet up the porch steps as I promised myself to never again go Black Friday shopping.
“How was shopping?” Will asked the moment I stumbled over the threshold.
“Horrendous. Thanks for asking.”
“Drama queen.”
I didn’t deign to respond, bending down to loosen my boots.
“Hey, can we talk a sec?” He rose from the couch, and I straightened without removing my shoe.
“Uh, that’s ominous.”
“It’s kind of important.”
I imagined my soft, warm bed. “Ugh, fine. What’s up?”
Shifting his weight, Will checked over his shoulder, like he was making sure no one was listening. “How about we take a walk?”
Genuine worry made my stomach cramp. “Okay, now you’re freaking me out.”
“It’s not bad. Or, well, just…” He gestured toward the door. “I don’t want Dad to hear.”
Redonning my jacket, I walked back out onto the porch and waited for Will. He joined me thirty seconds later, ducking his head into the hoodie I’d borrowed back in October, the first day I went back to school after…
I shook that train of thought loose and clomped down the porch steps. Will fell into step beside me, and we walked down the sidewalk as stray flurries drifted on the breeze around us. My breath steamed in front of my mouth, and I reached out to catch a snowflake in my palm. It melted upon impact. It wouldn’t stick, not this time. But snow would come to stay soon enough.
“So, uh, what’s up?” I asked after we’d walked for several minutes in pregnant silence.
The park at the end of our street came into view, and Will released a sharp exhale through his nose. “Jesus, this place hasn’t changed a bit.”
“You haven’t been gone that long,” I said as we came to a stop at the edge of the mulch.
“It feels like it sometimes.”
With winter around the corner, the park was deserted, but my mind replayed memories of playing here with Will when we were kids. I could still picture our mother sitting at the picnic tables reading a book as my brother and I ran around playing pirate ship and knights.I broke my arm when I was eight, falling from the monkey bars, and Will had bragged once about receiving his first blowjob underneath the wooden castle structure. And it was in the far-right tower where I’d confessed I was gay to our mother.
Yeah, there were too many memories here.
And like Will could read my mind, he said, “Mom called me.”
I blinked, positive that I’d misheard him. “I’m sorry, what?”
Will clenched his jaw, his hands still buried in his pockets as he scuffed the ground with his foot. “Mom called me.”
The echo hit me like a buckshot, shredding through my torso like it was tissue paper. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, Mom called me on my phone, and I talked to her.”
I rounded on him. “When? How?”
“Last month,” he answered, still avoiding my eyes. “I think she found my number on LinkedIn or something. I didn’t ask.”
I felt like I was floating. “Why?”
“There were more important things to ask than how she found my number,” he said, somewhat impatiently.
“No, why did she call?”
“She wanted to meet up and talk. She wants to have coffee.” Will hesitated. “I was thinking about meeting with her.”
And I crash-landed back to earth. “ Et tu, Brute ?”
He flinched. “Silas—”
“Why?” I said again.
How could he do this to Dad? To me? She’d left us and he was, what? Willing to welcome her back with open arms? It felt like a betrayal.
“Don’t look at me like that.” Will jumped on the defensive immediately. “I just want answers. I think I— we —deserve to know why she left.”
“And you would believe her justifications?”
“I don’t know,” he cried, raking a frustrated hand through his tawny hair. “I don’t know, but I can’t exactly refuse her. She’s our mother for Christ’s sake!”
I tried to keep the judgment out of my voice as I said, “Well, you gotta do what you gotta do.”
“Do you—” He paused and cleared his throat. “Are you gonna hate me?”
The way his voice cracked thawed me slightly. “No, I’m not gonna hate you.”
“I know that things aren’t always easy with us, but you’re my brother.” He rested a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “And I love you, okay? I don’t want to do anything to hurt you.”
I hadn’t expected such vulnerability, and my eyes burned. “Will, don’t be an idiot. I’m always gonna have your back.”
“I know she might not tell me anything important and that it probably won’t change anything, but I gotta know.”
“Yeah, I get it. Just… don’t tell Dad, okay?” At Will’s hesitation, I pushed his hand from my shoulder and pointed a threatening finger at him. “Don’t you dare tell Dad. She did enough damage the first time around, Will, and I’m not letting her hurt him again. If you see her, keep it to yourself.”
He worked his jaw but finally nodded. “Okay.”
The wind ripped around, chilling me almost as much as our conversation had. I hugged myself and rubbed warmth into my arms.
“Do you wanna know?” he asked carefully. “Like, if I do meet with her, do you wanna know what she says?”
My emotions were one big jumble, but I found myself shrugging. “I guess.”
“Okay.” Will released a heavy breath, body sagging like a load had been lifted. “Okay.”
“Did she—” I cut myself off, trying to swallow the words, but the little boy inside me fought to the surface, forcing them out anyway. “Did she ask about me?”
Will didn’t respond for a long time, which was answer enough. When he did speak, it was in a whisper, like voicing the words louder would make them that much harder to hear. “No. No, she didn’t.”