rock

by Anyta Sunday

  “What party?” I ask.

  “Last weekend when you were at your mum’s. Anyway, she likes me. She’s a tall blonde with green eyes like—” I still. Like what? “Granny Smith apples,” he says finally.

  “That’s—” Lovely? Great? Wonderful? Why don’t they run off and make some precious green-eyed babies already! “—that’s precise.”

  He hums. “Yeah.”

  “What’s her name?” I wonder if I sound too bitter.

  “Susan.”

  “She’s in your grade?”

  He nods. “Not in my classes, though. Probably why I haven’t noticed her.”

  “Is she as well-endowed as the pics in your magazines?” I definitely sound too bitter.

  Jace faces me. “Why are you still upset about those magazines? Everyone jacks off to porn.”

  “I don’t.”

  Jace frowns for a moment then nods. “I told you you’re welcome to—”

  “I don’t want your crusty magazines.”

  He laughs. “I guess that is a bit gross. I can get you something fresh if you want. A few good online sites maybe?”

  I want to knock my head against something hard. “No, it’s . . .” You really going to spill those beans here? While you’re alone in a tent you have to share? “Nothing. I’m good with the shower. Easy to clean.”

  “You’re missing out. I have this lube—”

  “Lube?” This comes out a yell and I slap a hand to cover my mouth.

  Jace snorts. “You’re fun. I can teach you so much. When you’re fucking your fist with this lube, it feels so slick it has to be close to the real thing.”

  “Let’s stop this conversation.”

  “You getting hard thinking about it? Me too.”

  I look down at the gentle rise of his sleeping bag—

  “What about you?” he asks, tucking his hands behind his head. “Any girlfriends? Crushes?”

  Saying no would feel like I’m admitting something so I nod instead. “Sure. Plenty.” That should be enough to take the heat off.

  And it does.

  But I don’t feel relieved. I feel like the biggest chickenshit ever.

  * * *

  When Jace finally drifts off, I crawl out of my sleeping bag, grab the light, and tiptoe to Annie’s tent. I tug her foot and whisper until she stirs.

  She gives a small jerk when she sees me, but quickly pulls it together.

  We sneak to the edge of the river where cold stones sink under our feet. Moonlight reflects on the water, and the bush looks like it’s painted navy-blue.

  Annie shivers. I wish I’d brought us a blanket—

  “Wait a sec,” I rush back to the campsite, sneak back into my tent and slide out the sleeping bag.

  “Here,” I say to Annie, unzipping the bag. “We can huddle in this.”

  Our feet are still cold but our shoulders are covered comfortably.

  “It feels different out here at night.”

  “Still. Quiet. Like a suspended breath.”

  “Nice.”

  She nudges her foot against mine. “Why are we out here, Cooper?”

  “Have you ever felt so full of thoughts you think you could burst?”

  She leans between her feet and picks up a stone. “When Mum first told me Dad was leaving us. All the anger, the questions, and that damn feeling of inferiority pounded in my head. I thought all you’d have to do was pull out a needle and prick, and I’d deflate until nothing was left. Sometimes I wished it too, so that I didn’t have to feel sad anymore.”

  I wriggle my toes against the arch of her foot. “I feel like that right now,” I say. “Angry, loads of questions, inferior. But also . . . butterflies. I’m totally excited but I hate that I’m excited. Hatred might be the biggest part of what I feel—”

  “Cooper! Please, the suspense is killing me. Just—”

  “I’m gay.” I wait a second to let it sink in. “That’s why there won’t be any future girlfriends.” Why I don’t care for Jace’s porn collection. Why I can’t tell him all the uncomfortable shit.

  Annie chuckles and says quietly, “That is exciting, Coop. You should let yourself be excited. Life has plenty of other problems to worry about, so don’t let that be one of them.”

  This great advice is coming from my sister?

  I hold my tongue and look to the tents in the distance. “How do you think Mum and Dad and everyone will take it?”

  “I can’t say for everyone but Mum and Dad will be fine. No need to angst over telling them. I know they won’t care.” She shrugs. “Might be a bit trickier at school though.”

  “Yeah, I don’t plan on coming out at school. Just Mum and Dad. The rest can wait until university. Or until it’s a need-to-know situation.”

  “Need to know? You mean if you find a guy you like? Is it too early to start matchmaking? Because Darren’s cousin—”

  “Too early!” I add a growl in case she tries to play Cupid anyway, and I hastily change subjects. “Whatever happened between you and Darren anyway? I thought he was your first.”

  Annie sighs. “I wasn’t very nice to him a couple of years ago. I lead him on. When he asked me out I turned him down.”

  “Why’d you turn him down?”

  She studies the stone in her hand then passes it to me. It’s dark grey and long, like a dolphin. “He was too nice.”

  “How is that a problem?”

  “Well, back then it was.” She pulls the sleeping bag up to her neck. “I didn’t want to hurt him, and I knew I would.”

  “But did you like him?”

  She smiles. “Yeah. I still do. Haven’t you noticed I’m always out of my room when Jace has him around?”

  Until she said it, I hadn’t.

  I grin. “Why don’t you apologize? Maybe you could try again.”

  “I sorta missed the boat on that one. He has a girlfriend now.”

  “Oh.”

  “But it’s all right. Live and learn, right?”

  “You sound like Mum.”

  The way Annie cuddles against me says she likes the compliment. We stay like this, sharing warmth and staring at the wide river and the inky tree shapes, until our eyelids droop and exhaustion sinks us toward the riverbed.

  “I know what it is,” I mumble through the last bit of consciousness I have left.

  “What’s that?”

  “We all want to be a ten on the Mohs scale. But we’re not. It’s why I love diamonds.” And the idea of not getting hurt.

  She yawns. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”

  We use our last bit of energy to pull ourselves back to the campsite. Annie zombies off to her tent, and I drag myself to mine.

  My sleeping bag is damp from the night air and the wet rocks. I shiver as I curl into a tight ball to keep warm. My teeth chatter uncontrollably.

  I’m too tired to fumble around for more clothes. Jace stirs and I curse my shivers for waking him. His adorably sleepy voice says, “Huh? You cold?”

  “I’ll be fine,” I murmur, except it comes out as a chattering of teeth.

  Ziiiip. Jace lifts his sleeping bag. “Come in here. I’ll keep you warm.”

  “S’okay.”

  “Don’t make me drag you in here, Cooper.”

  Will he really drag me in there? I can’t say it sounds terrible, but sleeping next to a pissed off Jace who can’t sleep doesn’t sound better. I pull my damp bag over to Jace. I slip one leg inside his opened bag and the warmth instantly cocoons my skin. I fold my body in all the way. His hot skin touches my arms and legs.

  “Mmm. Better,” he says, eyes drooping shut. “Better close the zipper or your back’ll get cold.” I twist to follow his instructions, but Jace quickly threads an arm over my side, finds the zipper and closes it.

  My body refuses to ignore this intimate closeness with Jace’s body. To stop a burgeoning erection, I shut my eyes and catalogue my favorite fifty stones, half of which have memories of Jace imbued into them.

  I’
m wide awake and warm again. Jace’s eyes shut and his mouth hangs partly open. His chest rises and falls evenly, and I feel it against my own. I’m glad he’s asleep so he doesn’t notice my heart hammering against my ribs, my inability to breathe, or my shivering when his leg shifts between mine and pins me down.

  My mind wanders to the magazines under his bed. I sigh, and sleepiness settles heavy and warm over me.

  I’m hiding in a cave in the bush. I need to think. I hear Jace singing by the creek. Low and soft, his voice vibrates through the ground to my feet and into my body. I’ve never heard him sing before, but it’s beautiful. I don’t want him to stop. I sit on a tree stump and absorb the sad, sweet, familiar-sounding song that I’ve never heard before.

  chalk

  A week later, Annie and I go to Mum’s after school. I wonder how long it’ll be before I clutch the triangular chalk in my pocket like it’s a lifeline.

  “You’re unusually quiet today,” Annie remarks, opening the gate for us. “You all good?”

  We shuffle up the path. “I’m fine.”

  “Sure about that?”

  I nod. “No.”

  She loops an arm through mine and whispers, “Are you going to tell Mum?”

  I resist grabbing my stone this soon. “Maybe.”

  “Want me to be with you?”

  I shrug. “Yes. No. I don’t know.”

  “I can wait in the study—just signal me if you want me to come out.”

  Annie’s keys jingle as she unlocks the front door. “Hey Mum, we’re home!”

  Mum yells back. “In the kitchen!”

  I kick off my shoes and beeline toward the scent of freshly-baked cookies.

  The flour-covered kitchen is a mess of bowls, wooden spoons, and trays. Mum smiles and wipes her hands on her apple-print apron, which reminds me of Granny Smiths and that girl Jace likes. Susan.

  I’m not hungry for cookies anymore.

  Is it pointless to come out as gay when I don’t even have a boyfriend? Maybe I should do this when I actually have someone to bring home.

  This is your pathetic attempt at talking yourself out of telling her, chickenshit.

  Annie steals a cookie off the cooling tray and juggles it until it’s cool enough to bite. “These are good,” she says with a mouthful.

  “They should be,” Mum says, ducking out of her apron and herding us to the dining table. She plants the cooling tray between us. “They’re a bribe of sorts.”

  Annie and I exchange glances. What’s going on here?

  Mum paces, wringing her hands. Her eyes light up and she bites her bottom lip. Why is she so excited? Did she get promoted to a new job? Does she want to move?

  My stomach lurches at the thought. I don’t want to start over again. Besides, what would be the point of moving? It’s Annie’s last year before university and . . . Ernie and Bert and . . . Dad and . . . She wouldn’t make us move now, would she? I swallow.

  I grip Annie’s hand under the table. She looks at me, startled. I guess she’s not thinking what I am.

  “What is it, Mum?” Annie asks, taking another cookie.

  She nods and pulls out a chair. When she settles into it, she looks at each of us in turn. “I’ve met someone. We’ve been seeing each other for a few months now.”

  “Say what now?”

  I couldn’t have heard her right. Mum’s here every afternoon when we come home from school. When—

  We leave to Dad’s for a week.

  Oh.

  Annie’s cookie crumbles.

  “His name is Paul. He’s a librarian. I met him at Memorial Library in Lower Hutt, and well, we hit it off.”

  “A few months?” Annie repeats. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

  Mum takes a cookie but doesn’t bite. “I didn’t want to make more waves for you. I wanted to make sure it was serious before I told you about him.”

  “So it’s serious then?” I’m trying to work through my initial shock. It’s a weird thought that Mum has been dating some guy for months. Weird to know that someone else is creeping into her life—and by extension, our lives.

  But I’m happy for her and I like her excitement. I especially like that she hasn’t gotten a new job and we’re not moving. I breathe out and smile broadly.

  I squeeze Annie’s hand. “Paul, eh?”

  Mum nods. “Yeah, and he’d love to meet my beautiful children.”

  Annie sweeps up her broken cookie. I can tell it’s taking her an effort to keep it together. She quietly excuses herself and throws the crumbs into the bin. When she comes back, she has a wobbly smile on her face.

  “Do you love him?” she asks.

  Mum hesitates. “I like him very much, and I definitely think I could love him. But to be sure, I need to know how he treats you guys. And what you guys think of him.” She gestures toward the cookies. “Hence the bribe. He’s coming tonight.”

  My words bypass my brain and spill from my heart. “If he makes you happy and doesn’t care that you have a gay son, you have my blessing.”

  I surprise myself by scooping up a cookie rather than a stone. I bite into a warm pocket of semi-melted chocolate.

  Annie shuffles her chair an inch closer to mine, while Mum puts down her cookie and walks around the table to my side. “Stand up, Cooper.”

  I swallow hard and pass my cookie to Annie. With shaky legs, I stand up and face Mum. I am an inch taller than her but she lifts herself onto her toes so we’re even. She cups her hands on either side of my face and studies me. Her thumbs outline my brow and nose. “It’s not a joke,” I croak.

  Her eyes well up and she kisses my cheek. “You’re beautiful. I love you. I support you. I’ll always be your biggest fan, and I’ll always cheer for you on the sidelines no matter what play you make.”

  She hugs me stiffly because Mum isn’t really a hugger, but it makes me warm. “Thanks, Mum.”

  She rubs my arms and steps back. “Promise me you’ll wear protective armor.”

  Annie snorts and I chuckle too—though mostly in embarrassment. But yeah, I’m well-versed in safety, thanks to Dad.

  “When is Paul coming?” I ask, eager to change the subject.

  Annie smiles and nods. “Yeah,” she says. “When do we get to grill him?”

  siltstone

  Dad and I are cleaning up the dinner pots and pans. He washes, I dry.

  “How would you feel if I brought home a girlfriend?”

  He scrubs harder at the pot. “You’re too young.”

  I’m almost sixteen. But I let that slide.

  “What if I brought home a boyfriend?”

  He pauses. “Still too young.”

  When we’re done, Dad peels off the bright yellow gloves and says, “But when you’re older, I’d sure like to meet whoever you bring home.”

  And that’s it. We don’t mention it again.

  apatite

  Jace is practicing the piano when I race upstairs. It’s a complex bouncy-sounding song that perfectly matches my mood: complicated and exhilarated. I burst into the room and the door swings wildly, banging against the wall. Jace stops mid-song, fingers poised over the keys, head swinging toward me. His expression morphs from shocked to amused to cocky. “What’s got you all excited?” His brow arches.

  I feel good. So damn good. Like one-thousand pounds has been lifted off my shoulders. Part of me still feels anchored down but I’m ignoring that part for as long as I can.

  “Keep playing,” I tell him. Jace squares his head toward the music and begins again. I jump up and down, bouncing and dancing behind him like I’ve gone bonkers.

  I don’t care.

  When I can’t dance any more, I collapse on the couch and laugh. Even when Jace stops playing, I’m still laughing. And when he charges across the room and looms over me, I still don’t stop.

  He grins at me. “What the heck is going on with you?”

  I press my foot against his chest to stop him from coming closer.

  �
�You can’t act this crazy and not tell me!” He clasps my foot and peels off my sock. “Tell me, or I tickle.”

  “It’s nothing.”

  He tickles. I squirm to get free, laughing harder.

  “Let’s try that again, shall we? What’s going on with you?”

  “Absolutely nothing.”

  His tickle works its way up my calf to my knee. I buck, trying to kick him off. “Too ticklish!”

  “Then tell me the truth.” He wiggles his finger threateningly but I shake my head.

  “Fine, but you asked for it.”

  Jace straddles me, his ass pressed against my lower stomach. He leans forward and tickles my armpits.

  I scream out in laughter, and tears stream down my face. I lift my hips to buck him off but he takes it in stride, rising and falling with me. He shoves his cool hands under my T-shirt and my body arches with yearning. Keep touching me like this! Yes, skate your fingertips over my chest. Keep tickling me like this forever.

  Jace stops moving and looks down at me solemnly. Our gazes clash. His dark blue eyes remind me of blue apatite, a mineral of inspiration, creativity, and awareness.

  Awareness. I’m aware of the way he’s sitting on me, aware of his warm weight and the pressure of his fingers against my chest. Aware of the blood that is making my cock hard. Aware of the electrical buzzes that pass through me as he continues to stare.

  My breath hitches. Jace sits up, dragging his fingers off me. I can’t be sure but I think they are shaking. “Tell me,” he pleads.

  I swallow, praying he doesn’t shuffle back further or I won’t need to tell him anything. I want him to stay where he is but I gesture for him to get off. I hurriedly fold myself into a less conspicuous position. “The thing is . . .”

  Footsteps pound down the hall and throw me out of the moment. I try again. “Thing is—”

  Annie flings open the door. “Jace.” Her calm voice somehow turns me cold. “Your mum is crying. I heard them downstairs.”

  “She’s back?” Jace rushes toward the door. “I thought she was working late.” Jace hurries downstairs.