by L B Winter
When I got back from my evening run, things didn’t unfold quite how I thought they would. Jamie was home, and I kicked off my shoes and said, “Oh, hey, Jamie. You’re here.”
It had been days since I’d strung together so many words when talking to him. He looked up at me and raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, I am.”
I nodded. “I brought you something.”
He looked expectantly.
“I mean, I did earlier. There, on the table.”
“This?” he said. “An internship at Thru-Line Communications?”
What? I walked over and saw that the papers had gotten jumbled in my bag. “No,” I said, sifting through the stack until I found the application I was looking for. “This.” Proud of myself, I placed the pages into Jamie’s hands.
He stared at them for a few moments before turning and looking up at me. “I don’t understand what this is.”
“It’s an application for a scholarship,” I said, “through the LGBTQ Office. My academic advisor today told me about—”
“Paul, can you ever stop trying to fix me for one second?”
I stopped, surprised. “I wasn’t, I just wanted to help—”
“I know,” he said, rising and beginning to pace back and forth behind our couch—in a space that, frankly, was nowhere near large enough for pacing. “You always want to help. You’re literally tireless in your quest to fix me, but maybe you should just try accepting me for who I am. You know? Like, you’re always saying I should accept myself, but it’s kinda hard to do that when I’m always around this guy who thinks I’m pathetic.”
“I don’t think that,” I said, blood suddenly rushing to my face and making it burning hot. I really didn’t think he was pathetic at all. I didn’t see how an application for a scholarship could have equated to that.
“No? Then why haven’t you spoken to me for over a week? It isn’t just because we had sex, is it?”
I shook my head, angry with myself for how caught off-guard I was. Did I really think I could ignore Jamie for a whole week without any consequences? That he wouldn’t be angry with me? He’d waited for his opening, and then, wham!
“I mean, am I supposed to thank you for doing one more thing to try to control my life? What’s the endgame of all this for you, anyway, Paul? Because that’s what I really don’t get. I mean, I get that you have friends that you love and want to help, and that’s awesome, but I’m not really one of them, am I? You can’t stop beating me up for what I did when we were kids—”
“Hey,” I said, feeling a hot spark of anger, “you don’t get to downplay what happened. You weren’t so young that you didn’t know what you were doing.”
“It’s like you were waiting around,” he said, throwing his arms to the sides, “making me think you were somebody safe, waiting to get me to a place where you could hurt me like I hurt you. Is that what this is? Just building me up to tear me back down, over and over again?”
“No!” I said. “For fuck’s sake, Jamie, I just wanted to get you information about this scholarship because Lynn said you were applying for Franklin—which, by the way, you could have told me yourself! So I’m not trying to control you, because I already knew you wanted this, and I literally just wanted to help! Which should have been obvious, because nobody ever hurt anybody by helping them get a scholarship!”
I was yelling, and I knew I was being too loud, but I felt completely out of control. Jamie lowered his voice, but his eyes had a dangerous spark to them.
“I don’t want your help, Paul. I don’t want the back and forth, does he care about me or doesn’t he—I don’t want any of that. And I need you to respect that, because life keeps throwing us in the same place. I’m not going to be able to avoid you living with Trent and Steven, and I’m not going to be able to avoid you at church, or at Franklin. So you need to learn what my boundaries are.”
What was all this? I dropped my jaw, but I couldn’t think of a word to say in reply. When Jamie finally turned away and said he was going for a run, I just stood there still, mind totally blank except for the one really disturbing thought that I couldn’t drive away: Was I the problem in this relationship now? Was I the one driving the “back and forth, does he or doesn’t he” that we’d been wrapped up in? Was I the Daniel?
It wasn’t until he left that I realized, no, of course I wasn’t. He had been hot and cold with me for months before now, so if he didn’t like how I was acting, then I guess he could just learn that actions have consequences. I wished I could say, You know what Jamie? This is what it feels like.
Jamie moved out the next day. He told Taylor, who was at home still when Trent picked him up, and Tay left a note informing me before he left for his internship. In the note, at least, he was sympathetic. “Lemme know if you want to talk,” he’d written, “and I’ll stop in your room when I get done with work. Feel equally free to tell me to butt out, if you want. I’m up for either. Here for you, bro.”
I felt restless now that Jamie wasn’t there. I had basketball at least on Tuesday, but what about the rest of the week? I didn’t want to call Steven because for all I knew, he could be hanging out with Jamie. Tessa had her own stuff going on, too, and Lynn never had time for me anymore. I remembered that I should call my mom, but even that couldn’t tear me out of the nothingness I felt all of a sudden. Without Jamie, I just didn’t care about anything. He’d only lived with us for a few months, but it felt like a lifetime ago that I hadn’t known where he lived or what he was doing. And it felt like half a lifetime ago when he’d been in my bed, when we’d had this brief, perfect moment of total acceptance and clarity. And then I’d had to go and ruin it.
But no—I was only protecting myself. If I didn’t ruin it first, he probably would have sooner or later. Or at least, that’s what I told myself now. The further removed I was from it, the less clearly I could see it. The rearview mirror had nothing but blue skies now.
Or at least, that’s what I told myself.
Without Jamie living with us, time started passing pretty fast. February turned to March, and for weeks, I never saw Jamie a single time. I would come over to see Steven sometimes when I knew Jamie would be at work, but his schedule didn’t really jive with mine any better now than it had all winter. When Jamie started going to that church again—something I’d suspected might happen after our fight—he sat on the other side of the enormous sanctuary and never said a word to me. He didn’t have to be so purposely unfriendly, did he? I remembered how eager he’d been to get back together with Ellen, how he’d lied to Lynn so that she would drop him off at her door on Thanksgiving. I thought it spoke volumes that he didn’t try to reach out to me the same way. Though he’d been thrown out in both cases and though he screwed things up in our relationship just as much as he had in theirs, he didn’t make any effort for me. It all just reinforced that I wasn’t somebody he valued the same way. It made me glad I’d done what I’d done—but at the same time, still aching underneath. But what was new about that? I’d cared for him for years; I knew that ache intimately.
With Spring Break approaching, Taylor and I finally figured out our living situation for the next year. We found the perfect place, close to his classes and internship, near a bus stop for me to get to my classes, and with a nice, big kitchen and a private bathroom for each of the two bedrooms upstairs.
“Should I get a job to help pay the rent?” I asked Tay on our bus trip back home from signing the lease.
“I don’t know,” he said, shrugging. “I don’t have time, with the lab and all.”
“No, I know,” I said. “And our parents said they’d pay it all, but still.” I paused, thinking of Jamie. “I feel like maybe I should contribute.”
“Are you still going to get an internship?” Jamie said. “Maybe you can make some money on that. Business internships are probably paid.”
“Some are, some aren’t,” I replied. “I’m not sure. I wanted to apply, but I got overwhelmed with all the choices. I’m going
to ask my mom for help when I’m home for Spring Break.”
“You’re lucky you’re going home,” he said, sighing.
“What, you’re not?”
He shook his head. “No, they’re giving me extra hours at the lab.”
“But the dorms are closed.”
He glanced at me, and I thought I saw a flash of nervousness in his eyes. “I’m gonna stay at Steven and Trent’s place. They’re sharing a room for the week so I can. Steve-o said it was a big sacrifice on his part, but.” He smiled, but it was still nervous.
“Oh,” I said. I was quiet for a moment. All my friends would be hanging out without me over Spring Break. Lovely.
“I wasn’t keeping it from you,” Tay said. “I texted them to ask about it earlier this week, after my supervisor asked me to stay. I just hadn’t seen you to tell you.”
“Right. I mean, it’s fine. Obviously.”
“Still.” He nudged my shoulder, and I looked up at him. “I know you miss Jamie. I can scout out the situation for you, if you want. I mean, I’ll be pretty busy, but I’ll see what I can learn.”
I laughed, reminded suddenly of that day a hundred years ago when we’d gone to coffee with Jason, and Tay had tried to learn all he could about Jamie. I’d finally told Taylor the whole story, and he was just as understanding and supportive of me as everyone else had been. I’d done the right thing, he’d said, by being cautious. So why, if everyone said it was right, did it still feel so wrong to be apart from him?
Mom came to pick me up for break, and I invited her up to my room to meet some of my friends before we made the drive to New Tower. Zeke and the guys were going on a road trip to Florida, and I asked them to stop by before they left, too. I’d asked Lynn, but she’d been busy. “Maybe I’ll come by your house while you’re in New Tower, though!” she’d said. I wasn’t sure why that was a better option than popping over for five minutes while Mom was in town, but whatever. Trent and Jamie had to work, and Steven probably slept right through my text.
When Tessa came by, Mom was particularly friendly, though.
“I know you take Spanish class with Paul,” she’d said. “What are you studying as your major?”
“Political Science,” she’d answered. “I want to be a lawyer.”
Somehow, in the months I’d known her, I’d never bothered to ask Tessa that question. I raised my eyebrows and said, “That…is the perfect career for you.”
She flashed me a big smile and said, “I’d love to specialize in immigration law. It’s why I’m learning Spanish.”
After Tessa had gone—she and her roommate were flying to Mexico for break—Mom turned to me and asked, “Has Taylor met her?”
I laughed and gave her a hug. “I missed you, Mom.”
“What? I just think they’d hit it off.”
“They’ve met,” I said. “I’ll tell you all about it on our drive home.”
It was really great to catch up with her while we drove home, and as I’d always suspected she would, she had great advice about applying for internships. I came home on a Sunday afternoon, and by Tuesday, I’d already applied for fifteen positions, ten of which were paid.
I was surprised when Lynn made good on her promise later that afternoon and texted me, “I’m in New Tower! Okay to stop by?”
Ten minutes later, she was at our door, and my mom—who I’d texted at work to ask to come home—pulled in the driveway just after her and gave her the biggest hug in the world.
“Oh, I’m so glad you’re here! Show me your ring!” she’d cried, and Lynn had proudly produced the princess cut diamond that had been Deacon’s grandmother’s. They chatted for a while, but Mom couldn’t stay away from the office for long. After she left, though, Lynn asked to stay a little longer and talk.
“Sure,” I said. “What’s up?”
“Well,” she said, taking a nervous breath. “You know we’re getting married this July. And, Deacon has four brothers, and they’re all going to be his groomsmen—and his best friend Adam is his best man. So, I asked my sister to be my maid of honor, and Deacon’s sister is going to be a bridesmaid, and my friend Stacy from college—but after that, I didn’t have any other close girlfriends.” She paused, taking another deep breath. “So, I thought—my two most important people, who I really want standing up with me, are Trent and…well, you.” She smiled and said, “Will you be a bridesman in my wedding, Paul?”
Having never heard of this particular wedding role before, I was completely surprised. Still, if Lynn wanted me to dress as a court jester and entertain her guests by dancing with a toy monkey and singing minstrel songs all day, I’d probably say yes to her. “Yes,” I said. “I mean, I have no fucking idea what that is, but still yes.”
She laughed and pulled me into a warm hug. “Oh, good! I’m so happy. You’ve always been so supportive of me and Deacon—honestly, even more than Trent. It’s really the same as being a groomsman, only it’s for the bride. Instead of wearing the black tux with the gold tie, you’ll have a cream-colored tux.”
“Huh,” I said.
“No, Paul, it will look really good—I promise! Trent is going to design it. I asked him last week, and he already had a sketch for me. They look so pretty with the bridesmaids dresses—all just sparking, gold, shimmery colors.”
She really did not know how to sell me on something. But, then again, I’d have said yes to anything, and it wasn’t even hard to put on a smile for her. “Sounds great.”
She added, “I waited to ask you because I didn’t want to risk Tay overhearing and being jealous. Of course, he’s important to me, too, but I could only ask a couple people, so…”
I shook my head and said, “I’m sure he won’t mind, Lynn.”
“Okay,” she smiled again. “Good.”
We caught up for a little while longer before Lynn hit the road—and after she left, my face felt like it would hurt from smiling. I hadn’t quite realized how rejected I’d felt, being the only one who wasn’t there at the apartment in Philly, until this moment, when somebody hadn’t rejected me, after all. I was one of the most important people to Lynn. And that was amazing, because she was one of my most important people, too. I tried to cling to that thought whenever I remembered that Tay, Steven, and Jamie were all in one place, probably having an amazing time and never thinking about me at all.
I grabbed my phone to call Steven and tell him, but I was surprised when it went straight to voicemail. Suddenly I felt deflated, all that enthusiasm after Lynn’s visit fading to nothing. Why didn’t my best friend ever have time for me anymore? I sent him a text, and I sent Tay one, too—and though he was working, Tay wrote back right away—“Dude! That is so weird. Umm..happy for you?”
I cracked up and asked about his week, and we texted back and forth for a while—but the whole time, Steven never replied. It was after four when he finally wrote back, saying, “Phone died. I already knew about it—Trent told me. Fun, fun, fun!” Well, fine, then. If he already knew, maybe there was nothing else to say.
The next day, I had a visitor who was even more unexpected than Lynn had been—Marissa.
“Hey,” I’d said when I pulled open the front door, “uhh—what are you doing here?”
She rolled her eyes. “Good to see you, too. I heard from my mom that you were home for Spring Break.”
“Yeah,” I said. Marissa and I had never really been friendly, even though she’d dated Tay for years. I always felt like she saw me as his goofy little brother, even though we’re the same age. “Is it break right now at the high school, too?”
“No,” she said, furrowing her brow. “Oh, you mean because I’m here instead of there? I have an open period this semester.”
“It’s the home stretch now,” I commented, and she smiled.
“I’m so excited,” she said, “and I finally decided where I’ll be going to college, too.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes,” she said, eyes bright and beaming. “Franklin.”
“Nice!” I said, giving her a high-five. “I didn’t know you wanted to go there. Tay always thought you wanted to go somewhere further from home, maybe somewhere warm.”
“I know. I did,” she said, then chewed her lip for a moment. “Can I come in? Talk for a sec?”
“Yeah, sure, of course. Sorry,” I said, shaking my head. Some host I was. I moved out of her way and led her into the living room, where the sofa still housed my laptop and papers for some of my Spring Break homework from those of my professors who were particularly cruel. I tossed the papers onto the coffee table and said, albeit belatedly, “So can I get you something to drink, or eat?”
“No, thanks,” she said. She tucked her hair behind her ears and looked at her feet. “So, I just wanted to talk to you about Taylor. I know you’re roommates, and he must have told you what happened between us, and I guess I just—” She took a deep breath and looked me in the eye. “I want to know if you think there’s any chance we could get back together.”
Oh, shit. I should have seen this coming. I held my breath for a second, then let my cheeks puff out like a chipmunk before I released the air in one big gush. “I don’t think so, Marissa. And I don’t say that to be mean, because I know that he always cared about you a lot, but he is in a really different place right now. Like, he’s always studying, or doing his internship, and it’s just the nature of what he’s doing that he doesn’t have time for anything personal. I mean, I had to register for a class with him just so I could see him, and we live together. And sometimes I feel like being friends with me is borderline too much emotional heavy lifting for him, and I’m just a friend. A girlfriend would just be…too much right now, I think.”
She sighed, and I wondered if she was thinking about what I hadn’t said—that if she hadn’t dumped Tay, he would have put all that emotional work in, anyway. That he’d really loved her—but she blew it. “But if I were at Franklin, too—”
