Gabe
Itook a walk.
Cooled down.
Then Mom begged me to come to the dinner she planned for Jason.
Fuck my life.
So, I walked across the gravel road from my trailer to Doug’s. The table on the porch was set for a lovely al fresco dining experience for a group of people who hate each other, and there was only one seat available for me.
And it was right next to him.
I’m hot. No, not hot. Burning.
Our legs almost touch beneath the table that sits on Doug’s porch. It’s humid as hell, and being this close to Jason only makes the heat worse.
He stares at his plate—won’t even look at me.
Nobody says a word.
You know the silence is painful when even the guy who doesn’t speak is uncomfortable.
Silverware clanks against the plates. Mom’s eyes dart about the table, desperately trying to think of something to say to break the silence, but it’s useless.
Sitting next to Jason after all this time is surreal. I want to ignore him, but my eyes keep trailing over to watch the way his jaw moves when he eats.
Or the way his neck bobs when he swallows.
Fuck.
I want to scream at the top of my lungs. I want to beg him to look me in the eyes and talk to me.
My whole being wants to fucking scream that I waited for him to reach out—to ask if I was okay.
Now that he’s here, I want answers, but I also can’t ask the questions. It hurts too much to ask.
And I don’t want to have to ask!
I spent my whole life learning how to read Jason—I knew when he was hurting even when he was hiding it, and I figured out what to say.
That’s all I want—for someone to learn me. To understand me. I thought Jason was that person.
My hand shakes as I grip the fork, thinking about the night it all went down…
Jason’s eyes blaze with fury. “You knew? You fucking knew and lied? Even after I asked you point-blank?”
“What was I supposed to do?” I ask with my hands stretched to the side. “She told me not to say anything.”
“So, you lied. To me! To me, Gabe. You knew what was going on. You said Linda was helping. Fucking helping! She wasn’t helping.
She was fucking Doug, and you knew the whole time and lied right to my face.
” He straightens, tears welling at the base of his eyes, and speaks in a low tone.
“I was going to ask you to run away with me. Fuck that. I’m going with my mom. We’re leaving Belmont.”
The air shifts. My skin turns cold. “What?”
Jason huffs a humorless laugh. “Doug’s kicking us out.”
“How can he do that?” Jason explodes, picking up rocks and dirt and throwing them. “Because he’s an asshole! He owns the trailer; he can do what he wants. Besides, do you honestly think Doug wants me to stay with him? He hates me! And I’d never stay with him and your whore mother.”
“Don’t say that!” Jason walks to our fort and starts kicking the wood that holds the tarp up. “What are you doing?” I scream.
“Fuck this fort. Fuck you, Gabe! You lying asshole.”
“Jason, please, don’t!”
He destroys it—the fort we built together. The wreckage lies on the ground, debris scattered about the forest floor.
Jason closes the distance between us. “I showed you everything. Every welt. Every tear. And you gave me nothing. Worse than that! You made up some shitty story that your mom was helping. Well, she wasn’t. Because nobody does! Nobody fucking cares about me.”
He pushes me away and starts to walk off. “Wait! Jason, don’t go!”
When he turns around, he has his switchblade out and points it at me. “Don’t ever speak to me again, Gabe. You chose them over me. We’re done.”
I grab his arm, but he yanks it away and continues walking. “Jason! Don’t do this. Where are you going? Where is your mom taking you?”
I grab his T-shirt to stop him. If I can just explain, he’ll understand.
But he rips his shirt from my hands and runs. “Jason! Wait!”
I run after him, panic washing over me because he’s running. He’s never run away from me, and he’s sprinting. “Don’t leave me!”
I trip on a root and fall flat on my face. When I push myself back up, he’s gone.
All I did was keep a secret Mom asked me to. What was I supposed to do?
And then he said nothing to me after it happened. Nothing.
After all the things I did for him. All the ways I tried to take care of him.
It’s happening…
And I hate it.
But I can’t hold it in anymore.
This is when the words slip out.
When it becomes too much—
My body shakes as I sit next to him, thinking about how much we meant to each other and how it all fell apart.
I needed him.
My chest expands as the rage boiling within becomes unbearable, and I let the words tear out of me.
“I hate you.” It comes out in a low, raspy whisper, making my throat burn.
Everyone drops their silverware and stares.
Jason looks at me, his eyes wide with shock, before they narrow, and a slimy grin stretches across his face. “Silent, my ass. I knew you’d say something, eventually.”
“Boys—”
I rise from my chair, staring him down with rage blazing in my eyes.
Jason rises in response. “Don’t even fucking try it, you—”
I push him hard against the chest before he can finish, and he stumbles back.
“BOYS! Stop it!” Doug shouts.
Jason pushes me back, and I fall on my ass.
“Try it again,” he says. “I dare you.”
With clenched teeth, I rise to my feet and lunge forward, tackling him to the floor.
Doug’s out of his chair, followed by Mom. Both rush toward us, trying to pull their respective child away, but nothing can stop us.
The rage and hurt have nowhere to go but into our fists, and so we just start swinging, fighting like crazy on Doug’s porch.
His hand wallops me across the face, and soon we’re both grabbing at each other's clothes, punching and clawing at each other.
We roll along the porch floor, fists flying, clothes tearing, hair pulling.
I rip Jason’s shirt, and he tears a hole in mine.
His pants are baggy, and they fall, revealing the top of his boxers.
We collide with an end table, and a plant goes tumbling.
Then we plow into a table holding an ashtray, which falls, peppering our bodies with ashes and shattering on the floorboards.
I get a good slug to his ribs, but he retaliates with a punch to my gut.
Mom and Doug are trying everything they can to separate us, but there’s no use.
We roll down the stairs, landing on the ground with a thud. Jason gets on top of me and holds me down, but I manage to free my hand and hit him in the jaw.
He falters, giving me the opportunity to jump on top of him, but he’s stronger than I am. He latches onto my torso, his hands grabbing me so hard it hurts, and pulls me down.
I squeeze him back, gritting my teeth and clasping my arms around him with a force that could make him pop.
We stay there, locked in this aggressive hold, panting and grunting into each other’s ears.
“STOP IT!” I hear my mom scream.
“ENOUGH,” Doug bellows before grabbing Jason, trying to pull him off, but I won’t let go. Jason won’t let go of me either. Our arms squeeze each other, refusing to loosen, until Jason releases a wail and pushes me off.
“No,” he yells, his finger pointing at me. “No.” The second one is a warning.
I hock a loogie, and it lands right on his sneaker.
“FUCKER,” he screams.
Jason tries to dive back on top of me, but Doug catches him first. “Take a walk, Jason!”
“He hawked a—”
“Take a walk!”
Silence. Jason stands there, glaring at me with his chest heaving. I glare right back at him.
“Fuck this,” Jason yells and walks off.
I watch him stomp off as I clutch my chest, feeling my heart pounding.
Mom rushes to me. “Are you okay?”
What do you think? Is what I want to say, but I don’t.
I just clench my teeth and hold back the tears that want to fall as I watch Jason storm off.
“Jesus Christ,” Doug whispers.
How are we going to live together?