Chapter Two #3
Huh. As we exited the interstate and pulled into a gas station, I rolled it around in my mind.
Gavin and his parents had been tight, but maybe something had changed?
Sure, Hanukkah might not be a super important high holy day or whatever, but it was totally weird that they’d spend the holidays without him.
But maybe they’d wanted him to come and he’d elected to be with Candace instead.
Ugh. She of the perky tits and golden hair and even, gleaming white teeth. Just thinking about her made me clench my fists.
“Candace is making the new guy feel right at home!” Pete Stiffler crowed with a braying laugh.
I yanked open the car door and stalked into the gas station, shivering in the surprisingly cold night.
Bells jingled merrily, and it looked like Santa’s workshop had barfed all over the interior of the convenience store, with garlands and cheap ornaments strung over the shelves and lights along the tops of the fridges.
The middle-aged guy behind the counter wore reindeer horns.
I nodded to him as I grabbed a Red Bull and a bunch of snacks, wondering what the Bloombergs thought of Miss Candace Allen. She’d been near the top of our class and was going to Columbia, because of course she had beauty and brains. It was nauseating.
As I surveyed the chip aisle, wondering if Gavin still loved sour cream and onion, I sighed.
I knew I wasn’t being fair. How could I blame Candace for seeing him at that stupid party and grabbing him?
It wasn’t her fault he wanted her back. Of course he did—she was a straight guy’s perfect cheerleader fantasy.
Wasn’t her fault he didn’t want me.
Through the window, I could see him pumping the gas, watching the numbers climb.
He’d been beautiful the first day I saw him, and he’d grown into a gorgeous man.
Tall and lean and long legged, and…why the hell was I thinking about this?
So what if he was good looking? I’d thought we were friends, but I’d been nothing to him.
Some little experiment he’d tossed aside for the hetero delights of Candace Allen.
I hadn’t even been worth talking to after school started.
Jerking away from the window, I grabbed a bag of Doritos. After I paid the cashier, I climbed behind the wheel of the Jetta. When Gavin got in the passenger seat, he tucked away the gas receipt in the glove box.
He asked, “I guess we’ll just take turns filling up? And at the end we’ll see if one of us paid more.”
“Sure,” I gritted out as I started the engine. I could see him watching me from the corner of my eye as I peeled out of the station.
“What? Do you not want to do the gas that way?”
“The gas is fine. And obviously I owe you for half the car too. I’ll pay you when we get home.”
“I know you will. I’m not…okay. Fine.” He flipped on the radio and left it on a station playing my mom’s favorite carol.
“They looked up and saw a star.
Shining in the east beyond them far.
And to the earth it gave great light
And so it continued both day and night.”
My breath stuttered as I remembered last Christmas and driving my mom home from the hospital after another of Ava’s endless treatments. I couldn’t sing for shit, but as we’d passed all the twinkling lights and snowmen, I’d warbled the verses I could remember.
It had only made my mom cry harder, but then she’d gripped my hand and said I was right—we couldn’t give up hope. I’d only sung it to make her feel better because she liked it, but I guess it had been the right thing to do.
The star shining in the east now was the town of West Wendover.
We drove into Utah over two faded white lines painted on the road, under the watchful eye of a giant neon cowboy and the glittering lure of casinos.
A sign informed us we were now in mountain time, which made me feel like we’d just fallen another hour behind schedule.
Past the undaunted dazzle of buffets, country cover bands, slot machines, and Arby’s, rocky hills rose.
Soon we were cloaked in darkness again, with only a few fellow travelers on the road as midnight ticked by.
As we went, the hills disappeared and the flat ground became strangely bright. “Jesus. Is it snowing?”
Gavin leaned forward in his seat, peering intently. “I don’t think so, but I guess it snowed earlier? It’s all white. Oh, wait—look at the sign.”
Bonneville Salt Flats Recreation Area
I exhaled. Salt I could handle. We’d have enough snow to deal with as we went farther east. “Oh, duh. Wow. That’s a lot of salt.”
We passed the miles and miles of salt flats, the carols playing softly, people singing about joy to the world, decking the halls, and silent nights.
After a while, I realized Gavin was asleep.
His lips were parted, and his chest rose and fell evenly.
He’d taken off his leather jacket and folded it against the window as a pillow.
His thick eyebrows had been pretty messy when we first met, but he’d started plucking in high school. The urge to reach over and run my finger over his left brow was ridiculous, and I ripped my gaze back to the road.
Unfortunately, the highway was a flat line in danger of hypnotizing me, so I let myself look again. Gavin wore a red Henley with three open buttons at the neck. Dark hair poked out from the collar, and I wondered how thick it was over his chest.
Turning my head, I forced in a long, deep breath and held it for a few seconds before exhaling. I wondered if his lips would still feel surprisingly soft, and if—
I took another breath and held it for longer this time as I clutched the wheel. What ifs would only make this trip even more torturous. I needed to concentrate on getting home, and then Gavin and I would go back to being strangers again. All that mattered was seeing Ava and my family.
All that matters is making it home so she won’t get sick again.
I cursed myself for the nagging worry over that fucked-up dream. But no matter how often I reminded myself it wasn’t real, it was like I could feel the hospital tiles under my feet and the helpless grief that had doubled me over as the doctor shook his head.
Shivering, I turned the heat up a notch, glancing at Gavin as he shifted and licked his lips before settling again.
Fuck, I didn’t want to think about him either, but the road was flat and straight, and my traitorous mind wandered back to that Labor Day weekend before the first day of ninth grade.
It hadn’t rained in two weeks, and the cloying humidity couldn’t save the lawns of Tremont Street from their yellowed fate. Watering was only allowed every other evening, and we couldn’t even turn on the sprinkler for a few minutes to run through it.
Of course Gavin and I had gone to the pond on the other side of the preserve as usual, and were almost there when the storm clouds had lumbered over. We had the place to ourselves after a while as the other kids scrambled home, lightning streaking the sky.
We’d stretched out on our backs in a low grassy nook at the edge of the pond, safely away from the trees.
I swear we could feel the thunder rumble through the earth, and the rain flooded down, soaking us.
It had been Sunday, and even though school started Tuesday, it had felt years away that afternoon as we opened our mouths to catch raindrops.
The odd snowflake drifted down onto the blacktop as I drove on. I turned down the radio to a low murmur, listening to Gavin’s breathing. Red Bull was tart on my tongue as memories wove through my mind.
It’d rained that afternoon for an hour—bucketing down, as my grandma would have said.
Our shorts and T-shirts clung to us when the sun blazed out of the clouds.
Gavin’s hair had dried while we laid there, and that was the day I finally hadn’t been able to resist reaching out to run my fingers through it.
The humid tension in the air that the rain had banished returned in a blink.
Gavin watched me with wide eyes, not moving back from my touch.
My brain screamed at me to stop, but as his lips parted, I lurched over and kissed him.
Our noses bumped and he squeaked, but he miraculously didn’t push me away.
We mashed our lips together, and my dick got so hard I thought I’d come right then.
We rolled onto our sides in the long grass at the water’s edge, kissing hard, our tongues thrusting awkwardly now. Pressing closer, hands reaching for skin—
“Cowabunga!”
Even now, my heart skipped a beat at the memory of the splash as one of the Warner boys from two blocks over took a running leap off a rock and into the pond. We’d bolted to our feet and barely looked at each other, rushing into the water to hide our boners.
“Oh, hey!” Joey Warner said. “Thought I was the only one here.”
“Nope!” I laughed too loudly: ha-ha-ha. I snuck a glance at Gav beside me, but he was treading water and looking down at the ripples spreading across the surface.
“Charlie, you hear Pete Stiffler’s parents are still out of town? He’s having a party tonight. There might even be beer!”
Gavin frowned. “We probably shouldn’t drink. We might get in trouble.”
“Don’t worry, Saint Gavin.” I gave him a smile. “We’ll be okay.”
I pulled around a truck and moved back into the right lane. When I glanced at Gavin now, the resentment bubbled up. I knew it was me who kissed him, and I guess he’d just been too nice or too horny to push me away. I shouldn’t blame him for that.
But that night as we’d walked to Pete Stiffler’s house, he’d kissed me quickly in the shadows with a shy smile and whispered, “Let’s go back to the pond tomorrow.”
We never did.
As I followed the straight yellow lines of the highway with Gavin sleeping inches away, it somehow hurt more than ever.