Chapter 52
ISAK
On Monday, with the emergency protective order in place and a plan to get a temporary restraining order this week, Lachlan and I head to school. His face and neck still show a few bruises, and he’s got a Band-Aid over the cut on his forehead, but he’s otherwise okay.
I’m so fucking proud of how courageous he is.
We spent most of yesterday sleeping. Neither one of us wanted to get out of bed. Mom brought us warm cinnamon rolls and hot chocolate a little before noon.
If Lachlan had been on the fence about moving in, I’m pretty sure that sealed the deal.
“Want to know something I used to do before the show?” I ask as we pass “his” ditch and head over the river into town.
“Of course.”
I tap my fingers on my thigh. “I used to narrate my life like it was a play.”
Lach tilts his head. “Oh?”
“I’ll give you an example. Um, let’s see. Our curtain opens the Monday after the final performance of Browser History. Scene one: A pleasant April day. The main characters, Lachlan and Isak, zoom up to the student parking lot of Royce High in a vintage silver Porsche to a Julian Hill soundtrack.”
“At least you’re not listening to ‘Malware,’” he teases.
“Hey, that’s for me and my earbuds. It’s going to feature in my wrap-up for the year as my most-listened-to song.”
“Ha ha. Okay, continue.”
“All right, so, um, wardrobe? I’m fucking wearing your gray hoodie, because it smells like you and I don’t plan on taking it off unless forced.”
That makes Lach chuckle.
“But what is different about the scene is that our hero, Lachlan Doyle, is wearing Isak Hammond’s clothes as well, and not just Isak’s trademark snap-front cap.
No, the senior class president and captain of the football team is clad in black jeans and one of Isak’s black lace dress shirts, and Isak has to physically restrain himself from licking him. ”
Lach bursts out laughing. But he does look incredible.
To paint a better picture: I often wear baggy clothes.
My shirt on him … well, he’s not quite bursting out of it like he’s the Hulk, but it’s extremely formfitting, showing off his sculpted shoulders and biceps.
He put it on this morning on a whim, then saw the way I looked at him, smirked, shrugged, and kept it on.
“Okay,” I say. “Um, the spotlight is about to shine on us, and my increased heartbeat is telling me I’ve got preshow jitters, so are you ready for this?”
Lach pulls into a parking spot. “No,” he says. “But I’m going to do it anyway. And what happened to your narration?”
“Meh, I’ve lost interest. I’m more interested in you.”
He switches off the ignition and sits, hands gripping the steering wheel. Students headed to campus walk past the car in twos and threes. A few peek inside the Porsche, but I don’t wave.
“For perspective, don’t forget that your sexuality and single or taken status are no one else’s business,” I say. “It’s private information, so you don’t have to say anything.”
Lachlan bites his lip. “I know, but I want to get this over with.”
“Hate to break it to you, babe, but you’re going to be coming out to people your whole life.”
“I can still answer a lot of questions at once.” His lips curve in a sly grin. “I have an idea.” Grabbing his backpack, he steps out of the car and comes around to open my door.
“Hey,” someone says to him, “cool shirt, Lach. Uh, wait. Your face all right?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. My uncle’s an asshole.”
The dude does a double take. “Sorry, man. That sucks.”
“It’s fine. Or it will be.” They do a dude-bro handshake before the guy keeps walking.
I step out of the car, carrying my own backpack, but before I can sling it over my shoulder, Lachlan pushes me against the car and kisses my breath away. Lips colliding, tongues tangling, hands in my hair, chest to chest, hip to hip.
I laugh against his mouth, which is still sweet from Mom’s hot chocolate. “This is you being subtle?”
Lach pulls a little bit away and growls in my ear, “This is me flipping off anyone who questions what we are. You’re mine, Isak. That’s it.”
I tug him to me by his belt loop, a saucy grin on my own face, I’m sure. “That’s a good thing, since you’re mine, too. I’m staking a claim on you.”
“Good.” He nods.
And we both exhale a little heavier than usual. Because, yes, people are looking at us.
Can’t imagine why the most popular guy on campus making out with a guy from a different clique would cause any stir.
“Ready for first period?” I ask, hoisting my backpack.
“Yeah.”
Lach takes my hand as we walk. His palm is a little clammy, which only makes me want to squeeze it tighter.
We pass through the thick of the quad, almost everyone staring at us and keeping a wide berth.
Well, fuck. What does that mean? Not that I expected applause, but I didn’t expect to become pariahs, either.
“I think you got their attention,” I mutter.
“Guess I’m really out,” Lach replies.
I snort. “Anyone who thought that our kiss in the show was fake now knows the truth.”
“Fine by me.”
We only have maybe ten minutes before the bell rings for first period. Lach’s friend Vince comes over and pats him on the back. “Hey, what happened to your face?”
Lachlan winces. “Long story. Let’s talk at lunch.”
A girl I don’t know stops to say, “Oh my god, is it really true? Lachlan, you’re dating Isak?”
Lach lifts up our joined hands and kisses my knuckles. “Yep.”
She literally squeals. “That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard of.” She fans herself, then runs off, apparently to tell her friends.
Morning classes are fine, but at lunchtime, things go downhill. In the cafeteria, while Lach is telling Vince about the drama with his family, Daniel, Mike, and Jacob interrupt.
“What the fuck? You defended this weirdo because he’s your little boyfriend?” Jacob asks, shoving Lachlan’s shoulder.
I roll my eyes, and Lach tenses.
I can see him evaluating which way to go. The programming he grew up with says to strike first, whether verbally or physically, and deal with the fallout never.
But Lachlan isn’t like that. He wants peace.
So he gives the assholes a flirty smile. “He wasn’t my boyfriend at the time, but he is now.” They look disgusted, but Lachlan simply shrugs.
I’m glad he’s not letting them steal his queer joy.
“Are we done here?” I ask. I don’t have the same aversion to getting in their faces that Lachlan does.
“Yeah, whatever.” They take off.
“We’ll have to deal with shitty comments sometimes,” I mutter. “Comes with the territory.”
“It’s worth it, because being in love with you is more important than any other person’s opinion,” he says sincerely.
Damn.
I kiss him.
After school, we meet at Lachlan’s car. Since we don’t have rehearsals anymore, we’ve suddenly got tons of free time.
“Hey,” I say. “I had an idea.”
“I love your ideas.”
“I think we should go to the beach.”
His smile is unstoppable.
We drive for about twenty minutes and arrive in the late afternoon. We leave our shoes in the car, roll up our jeans, and step onto the sand, seagulls crying overhead.
Before we’re halfway to the water, Lachlan pulls me to him, attacking me with his lips. It’s like he can’t get close enough. I feel the same way, my arms wrapped around him tight.
God, I love kissing him.
We’re all over each other. I feel like I’ve returned from some great journey battered and sore, and now he’s putting me back together. I can’t imagine how he feels.
“No one knows me the way you do,” he whispers. “You see all the stuff I hide.”
I nod.
“And you accept me anyway.”
“I love you no matter what,” I tell him. “You don’t need to hide anything from me. You and me, we’re meant to be together. Period.”
His cheeks flush pink. We’re going to be dealing with his issues for a while, perhaps his whole life. If he grew up being told he was worthless, it’s going to take some work for him to see himself the way I do.
Good thing I don’t mind helping him with that work.
I kiss him again and again, giddy with affection.
Lachlan is in love with me. He’s fallen hard. And maybe it’s a ridiculous thing to be thinking, when we haven’t even finished high school, but I believe down to my soul that we’re always going to be together.
“So are we going to be the cute old couple walking on the beach?” I ask.
“Of course.”
“We’ll come to the beach as often as we can, but at least once a year. Right?”
“Right.”
Hand in hand, we walk, talking, getting our toes wet, picking up seashells and bulbous strands of seaweed. We take a ton of pictures, and I post a few on social media.
On the way back to the car, Lachlan kisses me again. “Ready for prom next week?”
“Most definitely. And what comes after prom.” I wink.
“Oh?” Lach asks. “What comes after?”
I grin. “Mom got us a hotel room.”
He does the most adorable double take. “Well, shit. Now I’m even more ready. How’d you get her to do that?”
“I wasn’t going to tell her that I want to take you to a hotel and do very naughty things to you—though she probably knows—so I just said I didn’t want to be driving back from San Luis Obispo so late.”
Lach shuffles his feet. “I really want you to take my ass. Can we plan on it?”
“It’s a cliché to lose your virginity on prom night,” I tease.
“I’m not a virgin.”
“That makes me a little jealous,” I admit. “I want to have all your kisses and all your first moments.”
“You’ll have all my firsts, lasts, and in betweens with a guy,” he says against my lips.
“That’s enough.”