Max’s Brain Explodes
Max's Brain Explodes
MAX
The ice is thick enough to drive a truck on.
That's what Isaac says every year before we head out to Jersey Valley Lake, as if the reassurance is built into the ritual.
Ten minutes from the farm, and it feels like a different world.
Quiet. White. The kind of cold that makes your lungs ache in a good way.
We've been doing this since I was eight.
Just the two of us. Day after Christmas, ice fishing on Jersey Valley Lake.
Leo was happy to stay behind. He was curled up with a book when we left, though, knowing Dad, he'll have maybe an hour before he gets conscripted into something mechanical and dirty.
I almost wish I could see his face when that happens.
Isaac drills the hole with practiced efficiency while I set up our chairs, the fold-out kind with the little cup holders that Dad bought the year I turned ten. They're ancient now, duct tape holding one of the legs together, but Isaac refuses to replace them.
"You remember the year you fell through?" I ask, baiting my hook.
Isaac groans. "I didn't fall through. My leg went in."
"Up to your thigh." I keep my eyes on the water, innocent as anything. He gives me a look.
"It was an unmarked hole. Some asshole didn't fill it in properly." He drops his line in. "And you yanked me out like you didn't weigh eighty pounds."
"I was determined."
"You were annoying." But he's grinning now, that big booming grin. "Then you learned a new word."
The memory surfaces, and I laugh. "I'd forgotten about that! Mom would've killed you if she'd heard."
"Which is why I begged you not to repeat it." Isaac shakes his head, still smiling. "You said it like fifteen times on the walk back. Just testing it out. 'Shit. Shiiiit. Shit!' Like you were working through different pronunciations."
"I was scientifically analyzing its linguistic versatility."
"You were eight and thought you'd discovered a magic word." He nudges my shoulder. "I ended up bribing you with hot chocolate just to get you to stop before we reached the house."
"Best hot chocolate I ever had."
We sit in comfortable silence for a while. The kind of quiet that only happens between people who've known each other forever. The lake is peaceful. A few other fishermen are scattered across the ice, but far enough away that it feels like we're alone.
Isaac is the perfect person to be quiet around. We sit like that for a while, lines in the water, before he says, "Remember the sled?"
"Which sled?"
"The sled, Max. The one that almost gave Dad a heart attack."
Oh. That sled. "It was aerodynamically sound," I protest. "I calculated the optimal angle and weight distribution—"
"You built a rocket."
"It was a sled with improved velocity." Isaac's laughing now, that big booming laugh that sounds just like Dad's, and I find myself grinning too.
"I thought Dad was gonna kill us when we shot past him.
His face was so red by the time he caught up.
" I remember that. Dad sprinting after us, slipping on the ice, yelling our names.
I'd been terrified for about thirty seconds.
Then he'd reached us, panting, and I'd waited for the lecture.
Instead, he'd looked at the sled, then looked at me, and grinned.
How fast do ya think it went? Three months later, he'd signed me up for the town soapbox derby.
"Four consecutive wins," Isaac says, like he's reading my mind. "You dominated that derby."
"It wasn't that hard. Most of the designs had significant drag issues—"
"Max. You went twice as far down Park Street as anyone else racing.
" I shrug, conceding the point. It was fun. Really fun, actually, especially with Dad at the finish line. He didn’t often get me, but man, he tried.
What I'd loved more was the year after, when they asked me to stop competing and start helping everyone else instead.
Refining designs, solving problems, watching other kids figure out what worked.
"You became the town's official derby engineer at fourteen years old," Isaac says, shaking his head. "Only you."
"The engineering was always my thing more than the racing anyway."
We fall quiet again. My line bobs gently. Nothing's biting yet, but that's not really the point; we've gone entire afternoons without catching a single fish and still called it a good day. Isaac clears his throat. Here it comes.
"So," he says, too casually. "Why's Leo being so weird around you?"
My face heats up immediately. "He's not… I mean, he's just… there's a perfectly reasonable…"
"Max,” Isaac says my name like a full stop. "You turned the color of a tomato the second I said his name."
Blast it!
He's grinning now, full dimples, but it fades quickly. He looks out at the ice for a moment, then turns to face me properly. "Was he good to you?"
"I am not talking about s-e-x with my brother." My face couldn't get any hotter without me passing out.
"Geez, I'm not asking for details." Isaac leans forward, elbows on his knees. "I want to be sure you were safe. That he treated you right."
"We were… safe.” My hands are doing that thing where they fidget with my fishing line even though it doesn't need adjusting. "Yeah. He was… really good. To me. About everything."
Isaac nods slowly and waits. The quiet stretches until I crack.
"I asked Leo to be my first because I didn't want to have the whole virgin thing hanging over me anymore and—"
"Max, that doesn't matter—”
"—you don't get it!" The words snap out. I take a breath and try again. "It does to gay men. It seems like everyone is hooking up and… and…" My face is on fire. "Well, that's what they're doing, and I was scared to let some stranger be my first, so I kind of pestered Leo until he agreed—"
My fingers twist together. "—and now I feel super guilty because he says he doesn't regret it, but he understands I want to date people, and JP is going to help me find dates, and Leo's happy for me—"
I'm talking faster now, barely breathing. "—but I think he thinks I used him for sex and I kind of did, but he's my best friend, and now he's acting weird, and I don't know how to fix things, and I'm confused—"
My chest is tight. "—and I want my best friend back, and how do we go back to before?"
Silence. Isaac's looking at me with this expression I can't read. Then his face breaks into the gentlest smile I've ever seen on him. "Well, if that's all it is." He reaches over and puts his massive hand on my shoulder. "Take a breath, little brother."
I breathe. It shudders a little on the way in.
"You and Leo will be fine," Isaac says. Simple.
Certain. "You two have a great relationship.
You'll figure it out." Then he pulls me up out of my chair into a perfect hug.
Isaac gives the best hugs. He's always been bigger than me, bigger than most people, honestly.
It's like being wrapped in a protective force field made of flannel.
Nothing bad can touch me when Isaac's got me.
I didn't realize how much I needed this until right now.
How much I've missed physical contact. Leo and I used to sit close on the couch.
Bump shoulders in the kitchen. Touch without thinking about it.
Now there's this space between us. Always.
Isaac squeezes once, firm and reassuring, then pulls back but keeps his hands on my shoulders.
"Leo wouldn't have had sex with you if he didn't want to," he says. "So now you need to figure out what you want. Do you want to date other people, or do you want to date Leo?"
I blink a bunch of times, not sure what to say. "I don't know," I say finally. "But when I tried to talk to Leo, he said I used him, and he knows I want to date other people, and he seemed to be encouraging me to do that."
Isaac looks at me for a long moment. "Do you want to know what I think?" I nod so hard my neck cracks, and he laughs, a surprised bark of a laugh, and ruffles my hair like I'm still eight years old. His hand lingers for a second before he lets go.
"Just be yourself with Leo. Don't push for things to be normal right away." His voice is gentle but firm. "What you two did is a big deal. It could change a friendship. I think you two will figure it out in time, but you gotta give it time."
Hope flickers in my chest. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." Isaac picks up his fishing rod again. "As for dating, I'm sure JP will help you find a good guy or two. Go for it. See what happens. Keep an open mind." I'm smiling now. This is good advice. Solid. Practical. Then Isaac continues.
"But no more sex until it's with someone you care for, alright?" My face could not get any hotter.
"I don't care what other gay men are doing," Isaac says, and there's steel under the gentleness now. Big brother steel. "You stay safe. You wait for someone important. Someone who matters. Got it?"
"Got it," I mumble.
"Say it."
"I'll wait for someone important before I have more sex."
"Good." We fish in silence for a while longer. The sun's starting to dip lower, turning the ice golden. It's peaceful. Calm. I feel better than I have in days. Then Isaac shifts his feet. Once. Twice. I glance over. He's not looking at me. His jaw is doing this tense thing.
"You okay?" I ask. "Is it your stomach? Oh blast! There's nowhere close if you're having an angry bum situation!"
Isaac barks out a laugh. "My bum is fine, thanks." But he's still shifting. "No, it's… something else."
I wait; he’ll tell me when he’s ready. He takes a breath and lets it out slowly.
"You said before that it was something only gay men understand," he says quietly. "How they all want to sleep around and one-night hookups but…" Another breath. "Yeah, so. I know exactly what you meant."