Something Like Spring

by Jay Bell

  “I’ve already talked to the Hubbards,” Michelle said. “We can go. Looks like you’re all packed up?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Anyone you want to say goodbye to first?”

  Jason looked to make sure she was serious. “I’m not sure if he’s in his room or not… Can you guard the hallway?”

  “Officially? No.” Michelle stood up and went to the door. “I can, however, go over some final details with the Hubbards downstairs. Five minutes, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Jason was out the door first. Like last night, he didn’t bother to knock. This time the doorknob turned beneath his hand. He was worried this meant Caesar wasn’t there, but Jason found him sitting on the carpet, back against the bed.

  “They told me you were leaving,” he mumbled.

  Jason eyed him a minute before shutting the door. “Maybe it’s for the best. We’ll let things die down a little. Then you could sneak out and pick me up. Not every night, but—”

  Caesar raised his head. “I’m going to Yale.”

  “I know,” Jason said, “but not for a few months.”

  “So we just screw around until then?”

  Jason hesitated, surprised by the chill in his voice. “I’ll get my driver’s license. Now that I’m sixteen I can sign up for a work program through the group home. I’ll save money, and maybe we can meet halfway. I’d have to get a car, but hell, I’ll take a bus until then! Or maybe—”

  “Nathaniel got accepted,” Caesar said. “To Yale. Getting transferred there is even harder than being accepted as a freshman. He’s been working his ass off all year to achieve that. Even before he got back in touch with me.”

  “So?” Jason wanted to say this defiantly, but the word came out sounding desperate. “So that’s it?”

  Caesar’s tone was pleading. “I’ve been in love with him since I was fifteen! And I’ve been waiting, all this time, to be with him.” He scowled down at the carpet again. “So yes. This is it.”

  Jason stood there, lip trembling as he tried to find the right words, anything at all, that would earn him a second chance. When he couldn’t find them, when even his heart couldn’t offer him hope, his shoulders relaxed. “Goodbye, Caesar.”

  After a moment of stillness, Caesar looked up one last time, jaw clenching, but only to hold back tears. “Goodbye, Jason Grant.”

  All that was left, was to turn and walk away. Jason found this easier to do than he might have expected, since staying longer would hurt too much. On the way down the hall, he heard Carrie’s music, heard the clicking of a mouse in Peter’s room, but he refused to look inside the cracked doors. He wondered if Mr. and Mrs. Hubbard had told them all to stay in their rooms to keep them safe, just in case Jason had a tantrum. Or maybe to shield them from his perversions. Only one door opened as he was passing by.

  Amy looked up at him accusingly. He understood, remembering the feeling of abandonment that had once haunted him. Then she thrust something at him—a little bundled-up napkin. He took it, her door slamming shut a second later. Opening the napkin, he discovered a handful of tiny muffins made from a light-bulb-powered oven. Smiling, he opened her door a crack and said, “I love you too, Amy!”

  Closing the door again, he popped a muffin in his mouth and went to his former room. Slinging his pack over one shoulder and his guitar over the other, Jason strolled down the stairs, out the front door, and into a hot summer day.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Home again.

  The phrase kept popping into Jason’s head all week. At the moment, it made him laugh, since he was sitting in the dining area of the common room. So basically, a couple of tables he needed to wipe down and a few dishes he needed to bring back to the kitchen made him feel like he was home. Not exactly the castle most people dreamed of, but he felt a strange sort of contentment from being in the group home again.

  “There you are!” Michelle marched in carrying a manila folder. Caseworkers were always carrying manila folders around. This made him laugh too. Michelle smiled in response. “I’m glad to see you’re feeling better, even if it is at my expense.”

  “Sorry,” Jason said.

  “Is it my hair?”

  “No, I’m just in a goofy mood. Wanna sit down? Shoot the shit?”

  Michelle remained standing. “Actually, I wanted to bring you the forms you requested.”

  Jason sat upright. “For the work release program?”

  “Yes.” Michelle moved the folder away when he reached for it. “I know sixteen seems old to you, but you don’t have to give up on finding a family. A good foster parent will be there in an emergency, even when you’re on your own as an adult. Two more years is a very long time. Enough to make strangers feel like a family.”

  “Two years is a long time,” Jason said. “And I don’t want to waste it bouncing back and forth between homes. I want to start building my own life.”

  “Okay.” Michelle placed the folder on the table in front of him, but kept her hand on top of it.

  He glanced up at her, saw that she was biting her lip, and shook his head ruefully. “Now what?”

  “Remember that brother of mine I mentioned?”

  “The gay one?”

  Michelle nodded. “Yeah. He’s been through some hard times too, and I thought it might help if you had someone to talk to who understands what it’s like—”

  “I know about the birds and the bees, okay?”

  “Not like that,” Michelle said, tittering nervously. Then she glanced toward the door.

  Jason sighed. “He’s already here, isn’t he?”

  “Yeah,” Michelle said. “He came all the way from Austin just because I asked him to. Isn’t that sweet of him? So it would be a shame if he traveled all that way for nothing.”

  “Ice cream,” Jason said. “And a movie. This weekend. Me and you.”

  “Deal!” Michelle said. “Wait here, I’ll send him in.”

  Jason shook his head, then did a quick check of his hair. Messy as always, so that was good. He felt strangely nervous sitting there. He hadn’t met many other gay people. Did Caesar count? He supposed Nathaniel did, for what that was worth. So Jason didn’t really know what to expect, but when a tall guy—one with the same hair color and high cheekbones as Michelle—entered the room, he felt slightly more comfortable. The family resemblance was obvious, although Jason found the guy version of Michelle a lot more attractive.

  Jason decided he should probably stand, which he did, taking hold of the hand that was offered to him and shaking it.

  “We share the same name,” the man said.

  “We do?”

  “Yeah, although nobody calls me Jason. My mom used to when she was really really mad, but for the most part, it’s just Jace. What about you?”

  “People call me Jason whether they’re mad or not,” he answered.

  Jace grinned, then glanced around the room. “Should we sit?”

  “Yeah, okay.” Jason took his seat again, embarrassed when Jace sat across from him and started wiping the crumbs into a tidy pile. “Sorry. I was supposed to clean that up.”

  Jace looked up. “Don’t worry about it. Just a habit from my job. I’m always cleaning up after people.”

  “What do you do?”

  “Flight attendant, although I’m on an extended leave of absence right now.”

  “Oh.”

  Jace scooped the crumbs into his hand, realized he had nowhere to put them, and then scattered them across the table again. “Well, that was fun,” he said before laughing at himself. Then he turned his full attention to Jason. “Listen, I think my sister wants me to give you a big speech about how you’ll be fine, but I’m guessing you’ve survived enough rough situations in your life to already know that.”

  Jason shrugged. “I’m not really worried about anything.”

  “Nothing at all?”

  Jason hesitated. “Does it ever stop hurting?”

  “When you lose someone?” Jace
considered this for a moment. “No. Not entirely. There will always be times when you think of him, and it’ll always hurt that it didn’t work out… but it won’t remain the constant pain you feel now. You might go weeks, maybe even months without thinking of him. Then, on the long sleepless nights when you do, you’ll feel a little pang of regret that still stings. That’s all.”

  “Sounds okay,” Jason said. “I think I can live with that.”

  Jace peered at him. “If you don’t mind me asking… My sister didn’t tell me any details. Do you want to talk about it?”

  Jason found that he did, and once he started, he couldn’t stop. Jace was a captive audience, or at least a patient one, nodding occasionally to show he was listening and understood. By the end of his story, Jason found himself getting emotional again. “I just feel like if we could be together now, especially since I’m not living there, everything would work out, you know?”

  Jace chose his answer carefully. “The first guy I was in love with, there were a lot of circumstances like that. Different from your own, of course, but little things surrounding us that made it difficult to be together. Years later, I went back and tried being with him again.”

  “You did?”

  Jace nodded. “Even though things had changed, and kept changing, it still didn’t work. Eventually I had to accept that the world around us wasn’t the problem. We just weren’t right for each other. It felt like everything but our relationship had changed, which pointed at the true problem.”

  Jason swallowed. “Do you think it could be different? Do you think people can change enough that they finally fit together?”

  Jace thought about this. “I don’t know. I hate to rule out anything completely. It’s a big crazy world out there, but my own life experience suggests it isn’t likely.”

  “Oh.”

  “The good news,” Jace said, “is that there’s a guy out there right now, one you probably haven’t met, and he’s absolutely perfect for you.”

  “Really?” Jason said, not hiding his skepticism.

  Jace held up the back of his hand, wiggling his fingers. “I’ve got the wedding ring to prove it.”

  Jason leaned forward. “For real? You’re married?”

  “Yup.”

  “To a guy?”

  “Uh, you know what gay means, right?”

  Jason’s cheeks flushed. “I just meant… It’s not legal, is it? Did you guys go to England or something?”

  “No, we had a ceremony right here in Texas. When it is legal, probably in the year 3025 or so, then we’ll sign a few more papers. What matters now is the promise. Oh, and all that love stuff.”

  “Nice,” Jason said, not hiding his envy.

  “I’m not trying to brag,” Jace said. “I spent years and years thinking I’d never find a guy like Ben. When I was your age, I was convinced it was impossible.”

  “I know the feeling.”

  “Thing is,” Jace continued, “it’s rare to find that person on your first try, or even the second or third. You have to get out there and keep trying.”

  “So you’re saying I should sleep around a lot?”

  Jace looked panicked before he understood the humor and laughed. “Just don’t give up, okay? Retreat and lick your wounds when you need to, and then get back out there again.”

  “That sounds… daunting.”

  Jace shrugged. “If you had a time machine, would you go back and avoid getting together with Caesar? It would spare you the heartache you feel now, but think of everything else you would have missed out on. Would you take it all back?”

  “No,” Jason said.

  “I wouldn’t take back any of mine either. Love is worth the pain.” Jace started sweeping the crumbs into a pile again, brow furrowed in thought. “Listen, I don’t think my sister called me here just to give you a pep talk.”

  “No?”

  “No. The thing is, I have a lot more time than I used to. Ben and I have a really small house, but we could move some things around to make an extra bedroom, maybe put a divider in the living room. Uh, so if you need a place to stay…”

  “Thanks,” Jason said, surprised by the lump in his throat. “But I think I’m still in the ‘licking my wounds’ phase. Besides, I want to start building my own life.”

  Jace nodded as if he understood. “It can be rough when you first start out on your own.”

  “I have a plan,” Jason said, trying to sound confident.

  “Okay. Well, just in case… Do you have a pen and paper?”

  Jason fetched a pen and tore a lid off a cereal box when he couldn’t find paper. He handed these to Jace, standing and watching over his shoulder as he wrote his phone number. After a moment’s hesitation, he added another.

  “This is Ben’s cell phone, just in case I go back to work and am zooming around in the sky again.”

  “Will he know who I am?”

  “I’ll tell him,” Jace said. “And even if he doesn’t remember, all you have to say is that you need help. He won’t turn you away.”

  “Sounds like a great guy,” Jason said.

  Jace looked up at him and smiled, making him wonder if Ben wasn’t the lucky one. Before the cereal box top was handed back to him, Jace flipped it over to see what it was.

  “Lucky Charms? Don’t let Michelle near those things. She always used to pour them in a big bowl and pluck out all the marshmallows.”

  “She still does,” Jason said. “But she leaves some behind like we won’t notice how few there are.”

  “I’m sure she’s only thinking of your health,” Jace said. He nodded at the box top. “It doesn’t have to be an emergency, or you moving in with us. If you only want to talk or whatever, that’s fine. I’ll be there.”

  “Thanks.” Jason folded the box top in half and put it in his pocket. Then he sat back down again.

  They eyed each other for a moment that felt surprisingly comfortable. Jace was the first to break the silence. “So, what now?”

  Jason didn’t have a clue, but inspiration soon struck. “Michelle said we’d all go out for ice cream together.”

  “Did she?” Jace blinked. “Doesn’t she have to work?”

  Jason shrugged. “She promised. Said something about a movie too. She’s always dragging me off to horror movies, whether I like it or not.”

  Jace raised an eyebrow suspiciously but then smiled. “Come to think of it, I believe she did mention something about ice cream and werewolves. Didn’t she also insist on paying for it all?”

  Jason grinned. “You know, I think she did.”

  “In that case, let’s go tell her the good news.”

  Jace stood, offering him a hand to help him up. Jason took hold of it, noticing how warm and soft it was.

  No doubt about it. Whoever Ben was, he was definitely the lucky one.

  __________

  Part Two:

  Houston, 2009

  __________

  Chapter Fourteen

  Dark eyes, the pupil and the cornea melding together like a perfect eclipse. Or like obsidian, which was inconvenient, because Jason had a very bad habit of comparing eyes to precious stones. Even three years later, he still couldn’t see a piece of amber without all sorts of uncomfortable emotions bubbling to the surface.

  “Nearly done,” Wyatt said, wiping the sweat from his brow before picking up more flattened cardboard.

  Jason smiled and redoubled his efforts to break down the last of the boxes. Stocking retail overnight wasn’t exactly glamorous, and going to sleep just as the sun was rising made him feel like a vampire, but the pay was decent. Lately he found himself eager to get to work, which probably wasn’t a good thing due to the reason why. Wyatt was handsome. That’s how it always began. Jason supposed it worked that way for everyone, but other people seemed to have a lot more luck at actually getting somewhere. This would be another pointless crush. Eventually Jason would ask a few casual questions to find out if Wyatt was straight, and once confirmed, he�
�d slowly get over it. That was how it always played out. Every. Single. Time. At least since Caesar.

  Once finished breaking down boxes and stacking them, Jason took a step back and watched while Wyatt tossed them into the trash compactor. Jason loved the contrast between the dark eyes and bleached hair, even loved the lame barbwire tattoos on each arm, shirt sleeves rolled up intentionally to expose them. Or the pert little ass that always drew his attention. He practically drooled while—

  “What are you, a fag?”

  Jason’s attention whipped away from tight butt cheeks to a face that was leering in amusement. It wasn’t a nice face. Maybe Paul could have been considered handsome if he ever demonstrated an ounce of kindness, but Jason’s shift manager seemed to delight in making people miserable.

  “I bet you are,” Paul insisted. “Or were you thinking about stealing his wallet?”

  Jason’s jaw clenched. He ignored that Wyatt had turned around, because it made him want to lie, and he wasn’t about to do that. “I’m not a fag,” he said. “I’m gay. Got a problem with that?”

  Paul raised his hands. “Hey, obviously it’s Wyatt who should be worried. Maybe you shouldn’t keep your back turned to Jason here, know what I mean?”

  Jason looked to Wyatt, hoping for some backup or at least disgust at Paul’s homophobia. Wyatt’s pierced eyebrows shot downward, his lip on the verge of curling… but he wasn’t looking at Paul.

  Jason supposed he had his answer. No more warm feelings for Wyatt. He rolled his eyes at both of them, picked up the last stack of cardboard, and tossed it in the compactor himself. Then he went to clock out.

  Working overtime meant the sun was already up when Jason strolled out to the parking lot. Spring was still young enough that the nights were long. Jason struggled to remember the last time he’d seen both morning and sun together. After plopping into his old Ford Fiesta, he clenched his jaw while trying to get the car to start. Even a mild chill gave the engine trouble. He was still trying to get the motor running when he saw Wyatt walking to his own car. Jason averted his eyes, pretending he hadn’t noticed him, relieved that Wyatt had already left by the time the engine turned over.