Day 19 Burlington, VT
MAX
FUCK, I THINK I COULD SPEND the rest of my life looking at Sam.
He’s sacked out on his back among the pillows, his face turned towards me in his sleep, the covers folded halfway down his torso, exposing his bare chest. There’s a mark just above his heart that I know is from my teeth, and a hot flush spreads through my belly as I flash back to giving it to him, his back arching off the bed, his fingers gripping my shoulders.
All I want right now is to kiss him, to climb on top of him and put my lips on his neck until he squirms underneath me and clamps his knees around my waist. But I know that he’s exhausted, that there’s no reason for me to wake him up a little after eight when I’m the one who kept him up half the night.
We were going to go to sleep after the sex last night, we really were.
But we got to talking, and talking turned to kissing and kissing turned to touching, and before I knew it, I was rolling him onto his belly for a second round.
And to think, I was worried that my dick was broken. At this point, I’m more worried that Sam is going to break the rest of me.
I’m fucking crazy about him. Completely obsessed. Zero regrets about last night. I just want to know when we can do it again.
I ease my way out of bed, tiptoeing across the floor to my bag for a fresh shirt and a clean pair of boxers and picking up yesterday’s jeans from the floor. I know I need to go talk to Sage, and maybe now is a good time, before the whole house wakes up.
But I don’t want Sam to think I’ve walked out on him, that I’m feeling weird about last night or anything.
So maybe I’m a sap, but I rummage through his stuff and I find his black lipstick.
And I creep back over to the bed and carefully draw a little heart on the back of his hand.
He sighs, twitching in his sleep, but he doesn’t wake up, so I blow him a kiss and head out into the hall.
In the kitchen, Paul is coaxing Leo to try bites of his French toast, and Sage is at the sink, rinsing plates and loading them into the dishwasher.
“Morning, sleepyhead!” she trills.
I groan, grabbing the top of the kitchen doorframe as I stretch. “Hey, this is early for me.”
“We’re all on farm time around here,” Paul explains. “Animals don’t care if you’re tired.”
“Neither does Leo,” Sage agrees. She turns, giving me a searching look as she wipes her hands on the seat of her cutoffs. “Actually, Max, you’re the first one up. I was going to go out and pick some berries to make waffles — do you want to come with me?”
“Sure, I can do that.” As if I don’t know exactly what she’s doing.
Sage grabs two small baskets and heads for the back door, and I follow her. As we walk across the yard, she links her arm with mine. “So, how’d you sleep?”
The question is so pointed that I almost wonder if she already knows. Maybe Sam and I weren’t as quiet as we thought we were. But even though my ears are burning, I play it off.
“Um, fine. Really great, actually. Bed was, uh — you know, comfortable.”
Sage smiles knowingly, but she doesn’t press me.
Instead, she changes the subject, asking me about the tour, and soon we’re chatting easily, swapping stories about being out on the road.
By the time we get to the berry patch, I’m feeling pretty relaxed, and Sage shows me how to find the sweetest, juiciest berries.
As we move up and down the rows, she pauses, looking a little thoughtful.
“What’s up?” I ask.
Sage shields her eyes, looking out across the rolling fields. It’s going to be a scorcher of a day, but there’s still a crispness in the morning air.
“I don’t know,” she says finally. “I was just thinking about how lucky I am to be your big sister. Do you remember when you were little and you would sneak into my room when you couldn’t sleep?”
“Hey, there were no monsters under the bed in your room,” I reply.
“Besides, you used to tell me all those stories about Dad, remember? Like he had taken a boat down to the South Pole and they wouldn’t let him come back until he collected enough penguins.
Or he was off tracking Bigfoot and he was gonna bring me Bigfoot’s toenail clippings as proof. ”
Sage laughs. “I never knew if you actually believed me.”
“I figured it out eventually,” I shrug. “But still, I liked hearing what you would come up with next. It made it hurt a little less — you know, that he wasn’t coming back.”
“He never deserved you. Neither of them did.” There’s a determined set to Sage’s jaw, but when she looks at me, she softens. “You know you can tell me anything — right, Max? No matter what, it’s always going to be you and me.”
“Yeah, uh —” This is the moment. No turning back now. I take a deep, wavering breath, and somehow I find the courage to look Sage right in the eyes. “Sage, um — I think I’m bi. I mean, I know I am. Absolutely, extremely bi. I only just figured it out, but — I wanted you to know.”
Sage takes my hand. “Is that everything you wanted to tell me?”
I must be blushing brighter than the strawberries, because I feel like I’m going to pass out. “Also, um — I’m with Sam. We’re together.”
Sage squeals, throwing her arms around my neck. “Oh, I’m so happy! I thought you would never figure it out!”
I’m laughing as I hug her back. “Why does everyone keep saying that to me?”
“You’ve been crazy about him for years, sweetie,” Sage gushes. “It’s so obvious. But come on, tell me everything —”
We start back towards the house, and I fill her in — on the sanitized version, at least. My sister doesn’t need to know exactly what Sam and I have been doing.
But it feels so good to spill, to gush about Sam with someone who cares about me, to know that Sage isn’t going to see me any differently.
And with every detail I give her, Sage clutches my arm a little harder.
We’re almost at the house when she stops me.
“Max, I have to ask — where do you see this going? Sam has been your best friend for a long time and I’d hate to see either one of you getting hurt.”
“Well, it’s barely been a week, so there hasn’t been a lot of time —” I begin, but I know that’s bullshit and I can guess from Sage’s face that she does too.
“Fuck, never mind. Sage, I’m falling for him.
Like, harder than I’ve ever fallen for anybody.
But it’s too soon to tell him, right? We should let this thing breathe a bit. ”
Sage purses her lips. “Usually, I would agree. But Max — just remember how sensitive he is. You bounce back, but Sam — I dunno, he’s still water, always feeling things so deeply. Just be careful with his heart, okay?”
I’m about to say more, but just then, the back door opens, and Sam steps out onto the threshold. He’s wearing one of my shirts, looking rumpled but hopeful, a question in his hazel eyes.
And there’s no reason to hold back — I cross the space between us in four strides, trotting up the back steps and sweeping him into a kiss. He makes an odd noise — a little mmph of shock — but then he relaxes, draping his arms around my shoulders as he kisses me back.
“She knows,” I whisper. “And she’s thrilled.”
Sage coughs gently behind us, and when we break apart, she wraps Sam up into her own warm hug, whispering something in his ear that makes his cheeks turn pink. When she steps back, she beams at the two of us, taking our hands.
“Boys —” she smiles. “I couldn’t be happier.”
SAGE
“Did Leo go down for his nap?” I look up at Paul, who is on his way down the stairs.
“Yup, he’s out like a light,” Paul replies. “I can hold down the fort here. Go on out and have fun with your brother.”
“Thanks, babe.”
I grab my two guitar cases and start out the back door towards the barn.
Sam, Max, and Roxie headed out there a little while ago, and I’m on my way to join them so we can practice for our gig tonight.
A few years ago, Paul and I decided that we didn’t really need the whole barn for farm operations, and so we converted it to an event space instead.
Paul built a low stage at one end, and there’s plenty of room for concerts or poetry readings or workshops or even the occasional wedding.
Tonight, we’ve lined up a few opening acts, including a slam poet, a dancer, and — well, me.
And then Clever Girl is going to take over and bring the house down, and I can’t wait to hear them.
Music has always been one of the things that held us all together.
Dad used to play the guitar, back when he was still around, and even though most of my memories of him are shit, the few good ones are those nights when I would sneak out of my room to watch him play.
He’d let me sit beside him and he’d play songs by the Beatles and Buddy Holly and Bob Dylan, and I’d do my best to sing along.
When he walked out on us, he left his guitar behind, and it wasn’t long before I picked it up.
By the time I was in my teens, I had moved on from hippie music to Joan Jett and the Ramones, and I had these two skinny boys following me wherever I went, wanting to do everything I did.
Honestly, I really got a kick out of it.
And now they’re doing their own thing and I couldn’t be prouder of them.
I’m rushing across the yard, because I feel like I’m running late, holding everybody up.
But when I get to the open barn door, it turns out that I didn’t need to worry, because Roxie isn’t here yet either.
It’s just Sam and Max, and I slow down, stepping into the shadows for just a moment to watch the scene in front of me.
Max and Sam are up on the stage, killing time while they wait for the rest of us. My brother is adjusting the microphones, making sure cables are connected. And Sam is sitting on the edge of the stage, playing something lilting and gentle on his acoustic guitar.
“Dude, what is that?” Max asks. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard it before.”
Sam shrugs, continuing to play as he answers. “I dunno, just something I’ve been working on.”