What You Own Page 4

  His mouth felt the same, his lips warm and soft on mine. Electricity zinged up my spine like a cattle prod to the back, and the spark went straight to my dick. I wanted to haul him in and kiss him stupid, only I didn’t dare. He was stiff, not pulling away but not moving in, either. I wanted more, and I didn’t dare to hope for it.

  Until he softened beneath my hands, parted his lips, and kissed me back. Tentative, then stronger, curious—just like the first time.

  In public, like the first time.

  Dread squeezed my heart into a tiny ball, and I pulled back violently, giving him an impolite shove that nearly sent him over onto his ass. Adam blinked at me, wide-eyed, lips shiny and begging to be kissed again. Wonder and shock played on his face, and I couldn’t stand seeing that again. I didn’t want to see that beautiful wonder ripped away by an asshole’s mean words.

  “That’s what happened,” I said. “That’s why we got bashed. That’s why you were in the hospital for six weeks with a fuckin’ skull fracture. Happy now?”

  I retreated without waiting for an answer. I didn’t want to hear it. I wanted to get on the bus and go home. My shared apartment with Ellie was small, needed new paint, and smelled faintly of feet, but it was private, and I could lose my shit for a while without an audience. Adam walking away from us as easily as he did back then made more sense—he didn’t remember there’d been an “us” to begin with. An “us” that was only two minutes old before it got shredded, but we’d existed.

  For a few brief moments, I’d been the happiest guy on the planet, knowing the boy I loved had loved me back.

  Shitty sense of humor.

  Adam

  When Ryan said something else happened between him forgiving me and us getting bashed, I never expected that “something else” to be a kiss. A public kiss in a pizza parlor parking lot. And I certainly didn’t expect Ryan to relive the moment rather than simply say it.

  I stared at his departing back, utterly dumbfounded by his polarized behavior. From upset talking about the bashing to shockingly tender during the kiss, right back to shoving me away like I’d offended him when he was the one to kiss me. I touched my lips with my fingertips, still able to feel Ryan’s mouth on mine.

  At first I’d been too shocked to react to the kiss. Stunned he was kissing me at all, much less right there on the street in full view of anyone passing by. Then something had caught hold of me. Something warm and tender had blossomed in my chest, and I’d relaxed. I kissed him back, curious, needing to know more. It had felt… right. My heart fluttered at the memory of it. Our first kiss.

  Only it wasn’t really our first. We’d kissed before. And I’d forgotten.

  No, that wasn’t fair. The memories were stolen from me by that damned skull fracture. I’d been helpless to remember such a significant event, helpless to stop everything that came next. But I wasn’t helpless now. Ryan didn’t get to drop a bomb like that on me and then clear out without helping clean up the destruction. He did that once before, in the hospital, by staying away instead of facing what had happened.

  He didn’t get to walk away this time. I had questions.

  Ryan still had feelings for me. If he didn’t he’d have told me we kissed instead of laying one on me like that. And that kiss had stirred up feelings inside me that I didn’t recognize. Feelings different from the sense of friendship and trust we’d always had. Feelings that went a hell of a lot deeper and that I didn’t understand what to do with.

  We had to keep talking about this.

  I jogged back to the parking lot for my car.

  Ryan

  The bus stop was three blocks away from the center, and the sign was clearly visible when a car engine rumbled up next to me. I didn’t look.

  “Get in,” Adam said. “Please, Rye, let me drive you home.”

  “So I can make a fool of myself again? No thanks.”

  “You haven’t made a fool of yourself in front of me yet, but this stubborn streak is inching you a lot closer to success. Please get in.”

  How could I say no to a pretty man asking me to get into his car?

  He didn’t press, didn’t ask questions about either kiss. I told him my address, and he drove. The silence was crazy-making, but I didn’t feel like figuring out his peculiar radio, which was some newfangled digital setup. I hoped he’d take me home and this fucking bizarre day could end.

  I’ve never been that lucky.

  Two blocks from my apartment building, he asked, “Did you ever visit me?”

  “When?” I asked. We hadn’t been talking, so I had no idea where his thoughts were stuck.

  “I was in the hospital for a month and a half. Did you ever try to visit me?”

  “Of course I did! You father forbid me from seeing you, or even giving you a letter. He changed your cell phone number. He blamed the whole damned thing on me.”

  Raymond Langley had used his considerable power to weave a story to the cops that made Adam look like an innocent bystander. Said I got into it with Chad and his pals, Adam tried to stick up for me because he was a nice guy like that, and we both got beat up. No one, not even Chad, mentioned he’d seen us kissing, that he’d called both of us fags, that he’d threatened to break Adam’s other arm….

  Fuckers got off with suspended sentences and community service. I lost my best friend, the last half of my senior year, and the ability to walk alone in dark parking lots without heavy bouts of ice-cold panic.

  “I hate him for that,” Adam said. “For blaming it on you.”

  “Didn’t stop you from going along with it.”

  “What else was I supposed to do, Rye? I was seventeen with a skull fracture. It was a week before I really understood what had happened to us.”

  He had no real idea what happened to us that night.

  “After you healed up and turned eighteen?” I asked, because I wasn’t letting him off the hook. “What then?”

  “Father would have disowned me. He’s the only family I have.”

  “You had mine.”

  “For how long? We were seventeen. I didn’t remember us kissing. I didn’t know we’d… changed our relationship. And even if I had….”

  “What?”

  He swallowed hard and pulled into a spot in front of my building. Shut off the engine. He seemed at war with himself while he sat there, thumbs tapping the steering wheel. “Even if I had, nothing lasts when you’re so young.”

  Ouch. Just fucking punch me in the junk. “Sometimes it lasts when it’s right. You and me, Adam? We were right. I know you don’t remember, but we were. For a few minutes, we were fucking perfect.”

  He swallowed hard. “What are we now?”

  I wanted to scream to the rooftops that we were still special, could still be happy together. But he didn’t remember, and he didn’t want to believe it. His father had locked him into a closet a long time ago and the door was shut tighter than a tick’s ass. “We’re on a fundraising committee together, is what. You get your college credits, I’ll keep the center open, and we’re both golden.”

  “And after the benefit?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve only ever wanted you, Adam, but unless you want me too, and you figure out how to say it to your old man, then come July twenty-eighth, I want you the fuck back out of my life.”

  He didn’t stop me when I climbed out of his car and slammed the passenger door shut. He didn’t follow me into the lobby or the deathtrap of an elevator that was broken half as often as it worked. I took no real pleasure in slamming my apartment door shut. Ellie’s bedroom window looked over the street. I peeked out without turning on the light.

  Adam’s car was still there. Hope played my heart like a fiddle string for a handful of beats—until he pulled away and disappeared down the block. The fiddle string snapped, and I let hope die.

  I went into my room and collapsed onto my bed, exhausted and spent, and not in the good way. Felt like I’d been eaten by a bear and shit off the side of a cliff. In twelve hour
s, I’d reconnected with my first love, learned he didn’t remember our first kiss at all, and then felt him kiss me back. All the while defending the asshole father who tore us in half in the first place.

  My phone was in my hand before I stopped to think about who I was gonna call. Ellie was working until 2:00 a.m., and she’d sure as shit text me on her break. She was awesome like that. My parents were an option—not a great option, but better than staring at my wall for hours, dancing with my own thoughts.

  I’d lucked out in the parent department. My mom, Tracey, was from a huge family in Austin, and I had dozens of cousins down there still. My dad, Darren, grew up a foster kid and didn’t have any family of his own—just what he’d married into. Growing up I’d never been alone, never wanted for company. And then my big sister Meghan got leukemia and died eighteen months later, right at the end of my eighth-grade year. We moved to Pennsylvania a month after the funeral. Dad got a good job offer, and they were too sad to stay in Texas.

  Living around so much family kept me from being shy, so I didn’t figure on having trouble making new friends. I spotted Adam in homeroom, the only other kid not already talking to someone else, all skinny legs and wavy hair, and he didn’t make fun of me for calling him “hoss” like other kids did. We fit.

  We’d always fit…

  …“That’s your family?” Adam asks. His eyebrows are high into his forehead, and he’s gaping at a picture on the wall of the den. It’s the first time he’s come over to hang out in the two weeks since school started. He brought a new Xbox game, but we haven’t gotten around to playing it yet because he’s been prowling the house, investigating.

  “Most of it,” I say. The picture was taken a few years ago at a family picnic at my Aunt Susan’s house. “My momma has four sisters and three brothers, and they’ve all got kids.”

  He squints at the photo, leaning in close. “You guys all kind of look alike.”

  “Momma says her family’s got strong genes. Same eyes, same nose, same chin.”

  “What’s it like?”

  “What?”

  “Having a lot of family?”

  “Fun most days. Trouble is everybody knows everybody else’s business, so it’s hard to keep a secret.”

  He sighs and straightens up. “I know how that feels. My father has to know every detail of every day of my life. He’s pretty strict.”

  “Sounds like he’s protective. My parents are more like that now. Never used to care when I’d run off with my cousins and disappear for hours.”

  “What changed?”

  My gaze lands on Meghan’s face in the family photo, healthy and smiling. “My sister died back in June.”

  Adam’s eyes get so wide I think they’ll pop out onto the floor. “Of this year?”

  I nod. It doesn’t hurt as much to say it out loud, and it’s okay to tell him because he’s my first friend here.

  “Shit, Rye, I’m sorry.”

  “S’okay. We moved up here after. My parents said they needed a change, but I think they’re just as sad here as they were in Austin.”

  “Of course they are. You don’t get over losing a kid in a few months. Or a sister. I mean, I don’t have any siblings, but I get it. My mom died a few months ago.”

  “What?” I’m horrified at going off about my own crap while he’s got his own. “I’m sorry.”

  He shrugs. “It was an accident. She drowned.”

  “Damn.”

  “I bet you still get sad sometimes. I do.”

  My chest feels funny, like something’s sitting on it, squishing it down. “Sometimes. Meghan was my biggest fan.”

  Adam’s eyes ask the question.

  I blush as I say, “I sing. I’m damned good too. Meghan used to say I could sing a snorting bull to sleep.”

  “That’s a good thing, right?”

  “Yeah, it’s good.” I laugh. He’s a Yankee through and through, Adam is.

  We go play the game he brought, and I think maybe one day I’d like to sing for Adam…

  …Calling my parents was a bad idea for too many reasons. They’d both tell me to keep a distance from Adam (yeah, right), to try and pull out of the fundraiser if possible (not at all), to forget the past and move on (hadn’t happened yet). They stood by me in the hospital, they homeschooled me so I could graduate on time, and they never once gave me grief for any of it—not for being gay, or for Adam. Sure, they were righteously pissed about the deal Langley made with Chad and his asshole friends, but they never blamed Adam, and I loved them for that.

  I called anyway.

  It was a little after eight, so not late enough that they’d assume emergency. Mom answered. “Hey, honey, how are you?”

  “Good, Momma, how’re you and Daddy?” I stared at the peeling ceiling and hoped my voice was calmer than my racing heart.

  “We’re just fine. Daddy’s working late tonight, so he’s not here to chat.”

  “That’s fine, I didn’t have much to say. Just a question.”

  “Shoot.”

  “You guys gonna be home tomorrow night? I was thinkin’ of stopping around for supper.”

  “Sure, we’ll both be home. I can have supper ready by six. How’s that?”

  “Sounds good.”

  “You sure everything’s okay, baby? You sound funny.”

  “Nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow.”

  “All right, then. Love you.”

  “Love you back.”

  Short, sweet, and easy—and hearing her voice had helped. Unlike my rambunctious aunts, Momma had a calming personality. She was steadfast, a cellar built to stand up to any tornado. I didn’t know if I’d bring up Adam tomorrow. I probably wouldn’t have a choice if she asked about the center, and she was sure to ask. She knew how much I loved that place and the kids who came for a little extra attention.

  Ellie didn’t text. At eight-thirty, she called.

  “I kissed him,” I said.

  The silence on her end lasted a long time. “Are you out of your fucking mind, Sanders? Why did you do that?”

  “He didn’t remember, El. I had no idea he didn’t remember.”

  “What doesn’t he remember?”

  “Anything about the bashing. He remembers wanting to go to Pizza City, but nothing else. Not us talking, reconciling, kissing, not his arm getting broken. Nothing.”

  She muttered something I couldn’t hear. “You believe him?”

  “Yeah, I do. He’s got no reason to lie.”

  “He doesn’t remember Chad—”

  “Nothing, Ellie.” Adam was unconscious for that part of it anyway, and his daddy apparently hadn’t passed on the details.

  “Shit. Did you tell him?”

  “Some of it. The good parts, before the bashing.”

  “Are you going to tell him the rest?”

  Million-dollar question. As much as I wanted Adam back, I didn’t want him coming back to me because he felt guilty or wanted to make up for what happened. “I doubt it. I’m not gonna chase him. I’ll work with him on the fundraiser, but if he wants to know anything else, he’s gotta come to me.”

  “That’s a strangely mature response to finding out your first love doesn’t remember that he said he loved you back.”

  My belly rippled with old hurts. “It doesn’t count when only one of you knows he said it, and I don’t expect him to say it again.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I can survive seven weeks until the benefit is over and the center is safe. Then he’s gone again, I can say a proper good-fucking-bye, and move on with my life.”

  “Easier said than done.”

  Truer words were never spoken.

  Chapter Five

  Ryan

  Since I didn’t mention it sooner, my actual pay-the-rent-and-cell-phone-bill job is clerking at a twenty-four-hour Walgreens. I’ve worked there for a while and it’s decent. I get good hours because I don’t mind doing the overnights, and it gives me more daytim
e for the center and my college classes. The manager is nice and is pretty flexible on scheduling, and we’ve never been robbed—unlike the pharmacy six blocks away.

  I got called in early today because someone called out, so I ended up working twelve hours, and there’s nothing better than a hot, home-cooked meal after a day like that. I smelled Momma’s barbecue chicken while I was walking up the stone path to the front door of my parents’ house. I’d stopped thinking of it as my house when I moved in with Ellie, even though I still had a key and didn’t have to knock before going in.

  “You’re outta the nest, but you’ll always be my chick,” Momma said that day.

  Their house was a single-story rancher, set in with about fifty homes just like it, with a postage stamp of a front yard, and a slightly larger backyard overtaken by Momma’s vegetable garden. She insisted on always growing and canning her own string beans and sweet corn, and there’s nothing better than fresh cucumbers and tomatoes warm straight from the garden.

  I shucked my shoes in the entry, glad to give my aching feet a break. The TV was blaring from the living room. Daddy was sprawled in his leather recliner, feet up, a beer in his hand. He waved when he saw me, then went back to watching Judge Judy give some knucklehead what for on the television. He loved those shows.

  Momma came in from the kitchen with a smile full of sunshine. I swear, she could hear the door open from anyplace in the house, even if I was being quiet. People say I got most of my looks from her, and I always take the compliment. She’s a natural beauty, like most of her sisters, even with her hair mussed up and barbecue sauce on her cheek.

  “Hey, baby! You’re right on time.”

  I hugged her tight, maybe a little too tight, just to feel that sense of safety and warmth you get from hugging your momma, and she noticed. She pulled back and put her hands on my cheeks, eyeballing me.