The Maple Effect

by Madeleine Cull

  In the passing week, they spent a day down in town together, having lunch and going to see a movie because they both felt it appropriate to have another official date. June paid this time because Aaron was afraid of getting socked in the arm, and once in the theater, they sat in the back and made out like teenagers were supposed to. June wanted to go down on him, but Aaron couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes turning to look at them, so he’d refused. He called Arco after the date and talked to him for a while about public indecency while June encouraged him to give it a try.

  They got haircuts like they said they were going to, and Aaron felt all around lighter. He’d been hesitant at first because he genuinely liked his hair, but it was thick. Even he had to admit it wasn’t worth holding the extra summer heat. The barber chopped it short but kept it in the same style. Buzzed around his neck and ears but longer on top. It was fluffy. June couldn’t stop touching it, and Aaron hardly minded. In contrast, June’s haircut was almost the same as it was before, the only exception being he could slick it away from his forehead now, and it wouldn’t flop back down. It framed his face a little different like that too; made him look more masculine. Older. And interestingly enough, less oriental. Aaron hadn’t known a haircut could do that to someone.

  They wound up cruising the town a while afterward, window shopping and kicking pebbles along the sidewalk. Aaron reached for June’s hand and was pleased to find he took it willingly, completely unafraid of the looks they received by strangers. Some of them smiled politely, and others scowled like they’d been personally offended. Aaron didn’t care. Actually, June’s love of irritating adults must have rubbed off on him because he found it amusing to ruin people’s day like this. They had no business being bothered by them, so Aaron took it in stride. He shot June an impish smile at one point, forgetting the hand-holding in favor of slotting his fingers into the back pocket of June’s jeans. That really made people stare.

  Finally, before they decided to call it quits and head back up the mountain, Aaron stepped into a dusty thrift shop and found someone's old acoustic guitar. He tried to talk himself out of buying it (because he had three of his own back in Portland) but the more he held the mahogany wood and ran his fingertips along the out-of-tune strings, the more he longed to hear it’s sound. In the end, June decided for him, with a roll of his eyes and some left-hook comment about wanting to hear him play. Aaron gave in, set the thing gently in the backseat of his car, and sang along to the radio the whole way home.

  Things were going well. Really. The turmoil, the back and forth, the unsteady ground he and June had been treading, all seemed to level out lately. Aaron didn’t know if it had more to do with the fact they were being honest with each other, or if they simply didn’t have enough time to be upset anymore, but he didn’t think too hard about it. June was mellowing, and Aaron was willingly drowning in it.

  Charlie and Angie came and found them back on the porch beneath the maple tree, soaking up the lingering hours of sunlight while they could. Aaron was wearing the sleep mask, head nestled on his arms, and trying to stay as still as possible. June was across the picnic table from him, sketchbook propped up and pencils scattered around aimlessly. He was drawing Aaron, which was both intriguing and flattering.

  They heard the truck first, and then the sounds of steps up the porch and the gate rattling.

  “Hello, boys!” Angie cheered, followed by the more muted sound of Charlie’s greeting. They came closer, slid into the bench seats beside them.

  “Why is Aaron blindfolded?” Charlie scoffed.

  “Because I’m drawing him,” June said precisely. There was little annoyance in his tone, which was surprising. Aaron listened to the shuffle of paper and wished he could see.

  “That…doesn’t explain the blindfold.”

  June sighed. “It’s aesthetic.”

  Aaron smiled because he knew that wasn’t true. June had other reasons for making him sit out here with the sleep mask on his face. He just wouldn’t share them.

  “If you say so,” Charlie allowed.

  “It looks great,” Angie added. “A lot better than the portrait you did of me in seventh grade.”

  June laughed, something light and at ease. Almost peaceful. Aaron wanted to peek up behind the mask to see his eyes but refrained. There was a certain calm in the air tonight; contagious and warm like the sun dipping behind the mountain. The pine trees smelled a little sweeter, the wind across his shoulders and forearms a little gentler. The sound of cicadas less of a buzz and more of a hum.

  “Your haircut looks nice too, Aaron,” Angie went on. She leaned across the table to drag her nails through the slightly more tamed mess. Her hand was vastly different than June’s; petite and careful. Delicate. Barely even there.

  “Thank you.” He breathed, not bothering to pick up his head from his arms. Goosebumps broke out across his neck as she petted through the locks. Being sure to scratch the fuzzy, shorter bits around his ears.

  “What about me?” June huffed. “I got mine cut too.”

  “It looks exactly the same.” Angie snorted, and Charlie snickered.

  “Whatever.”

  Aaron wasn’t sure how long they sat there together, listening to the forest around them and chatting about nothing in particular. But he did know the sun had to be setting by now. The temperature was changing ever so slightly, crickets were starting to chirp in the distance, and his biological clock was monitoring each moment with growing intensity. He started to shift around at one point but was scolded gently to sit still.

  June’s leg beneath the table pressed against his, and their ankles rubbed together for a moment. Quiet understanding. Aaron wondered if June could sense his approaching anxiety and was trying to tame it. He wondered if the mask was a lot simpler than he’d anticipated—maybe it was meant to desensitize him? If that was the case, it wasn’t working.

  “I should probably go inside…” Aaron admitted after a few more moments of contemplating the world around him. He couldn’t see it, but he imagined it as deep and threatening as the night he first arrived here. Little moon to light the spaces between the trees. The pulse and tremble of the nocturnal earth coming to life. The shadows stretching long and muted across the gravel driveway and crawling up the sides of the cabin.

  “I’m still shading your nose,” June murmured, his leg moving careful, building friction. “It’s still light out.”

  Aaron wasn’t sure if he believed June or not, but he could hear the scratch of June’s pencil against his sketchbook, and that was almost reassuring. How could he still be drawing if it was dark? The porch light wasn’t very bright, and when they’d initially come out here, he didn’t remember June turning it on.

  Maybe he’d be okay a little longer.

  Angie had gotten up to use their bathroom a moment ago and returned now. The sound of the sliding glass door opening and closing was also a mild comfort, although Aaron wasn’t sure why. Maybe it had to do with the fact that the safety inside was only a few steps away from him? He briefly remembered how absorbed he’d been in June that night they had kissed for the first time. Hadn’t he walked out into the porch then, completely unphased by the night? He’d been upset about fighting with June, and the storm had been violent, but it didn’t hinder him. Why? Because he’d wanted to kiss June? Because that was the only thing on his mind at the time?

  Aaron imagined the beasts locked in the same cage inside of him. Fear of the dark was growing tired, quivering, and exhausted from years of fighting. It tried to stand up to the fear of losing June, which was growing bigger and more feral each day, but still slipped and collapsed. When Angie sat back down at the bench across from him, he actually felt sorry for the beast.

  “Did you guys realize that tree is dying?” she said, voice quiet. Melancholy.

  “What do you mean?” Aaron asked, blinking behind the mask. He hadn’t moved much at all since June asked him to sit still, but he did now. Head raised in confusion.

  “I
t’s losing its leaves,” she explained. “And you can see the bark is drying out. It's cracked and split.”

  Aaron, without thinking, removed the mask from his face and dropped it onto the table. He turned around and peered up at the huge maple, thinking that it had to be a lie. That tree was so full of life; how could it be dying? The leaves were all green and soft. The branches were strong, animals still made it their home.

  “Aaron, you weren’t supposed to take that off…”

  “It’s not dying.” He ignored June, swung his legs over the bench, and stood. He stepped up to the railing and reached for one of the smaller limbs jutting down over the porch. “Maybe it’s just losing leaves early this year?”

  When he twisted the branch around in his palm, it did not bend but snapped right off. He held it, mouth open in disbelief, wondering how he’d not noticed before. He looked up into the canopy and could just make out the larger holes where leaves had shed almost completely. He looked down at the grass below them, where the trunk of the tree split into a tangle of thick, ancient roots. Mushrooms grew against it.

  “It’s probably because it’s been so dry,” June said. “There’s been hardly any rain this year.”

  “We should water it.” Aaron glanced over his shoulder at the three of them. “Is there a hose we can use?”

  “Aaron, we’d have to flood the yard to water that thing.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t want it to die.” He swallowed, turning the branch over in his hands. One of the leaves came off it and fluttered down to his feet. “I like this tree.”

  “It’s just a tree,” Charlie commented, and for the first time since he’d met June, Aaron thought the two of them might agree on something, which was strange, considering June’s sentiment toward everything else on this mountain.

  “It might perk back up if we get a good rainstorm.” Angie tried to smile at him, but he could see she was as confused as the rest of them.

  How could he explain to them the tree was important to him when he didn’t even know why? It’s not like he had a history with the thing (aside from falling out of it). With a sigh, Aaron walked back up to the picnic table and sat himself down. It seemed like such a loss to let a huge tree like that die. The way it stood beside the house was welcoming and loyal, almost as if it was protecting it.

  Before Aaron could say anymore, June was leaning over the table and strapping the sleep mask quite roughly to his head again. He grunted.

  “Leave that on, dummy.”

  It only occurred to Aaron several minutes later, with his head back in his arms so June could finish his drawing, that the porch light had indeed been turned on, and the sun had definitely set by now. Had he been too distracted to notice?

  Or…

  Was June’s plan working?

  “How’s the tuning?”

  June flopped down on the couch beside Aaron. It had been three days since he bought the guitar and he was still fiddling with it. Never actually playing it, just tuning it and plucking the same half of a scale over and over again, taunting June with the monotonous sounds and his occasional humming along.

  June didn’t know the first thing about tuning an instrument, but if he did, he would yell at Aaron to hurry up already.

  “The D string is screwed.” Aaron stroked it with his thumb a few times. “Actually, they’re all pretty bad and should be replaced, but this one is the worst.”

  June rolled over on his back and squirmed straight into Aaron’s lap. He pushed the guitar out of his way as he wrapped his arms around Aaron’s middle and let his legs dangle off the end of the couch. Aaron cleared his throat.

  “Excuse you.”

  “Just play something already, it will sound fine!” June hid his face in Aaron’s stomach. He felt antsy today like he couldn’t contain the energy in his own body.

  “I can’t play…really anything without a D string.” Aaron had to hunch over June to hold the guitar in a sort-of correct position. He sighed. “I can’t play with you here either.”

  June snuggled closer. “I’m bored.”

  Boredom wasn’t something he liked to admit often, considering his situation and number of things he could be enjoying while he had the time. He wished it wasn’t too miserably hot to be outside today. California was being hit with a sweltering heat wave and odd bouts of humidity, but never ceased to give into actual rain. All the news stations talked about the last few days was how much this was affecting them. How lightning was starting wildfires up north and spreading quickly due to drought.

  Even the lake was vacant today, with only a few daring teenagers at the docks or elderly people fishing with canopies over their boats. June and Aaron had hung out at the ice cream shop this morning but left after Ms. Delgado told Angie and Charlie she wanted them to do a deep clean while it was slow. June may be bored, but not bored enough to scrub baseboards.

  “What did you used to do with your sisters on days like this?” Aaron set the guitar aside and poked at June’s face. Pet his hair back gently.

  “Annoy our parents.” June peeked up at him, sly grin twinkling in his eyes. “They’re not here, so...you’re welcome.”

  Aaron’s smile was genuine and patient. His green eyes a mossy, deep color. That was very unlike his parents, who would have smacked him by now.

  “Wanna drive into town?”

  June shook his head, finding his elbow beneath him and pushing up to adjust himself. He wanted to get closer to Aaron. Wanted to be held or squeezed until he couldn’t breathe. Wanted to…bite him or something.

  “I’m horny.”

  “O-Oh.” Aaron looked away, cheeks flushing red. His palms felt clammy against June’s skin (not that June’s was any better). “Have you…thought about…ahh, you know.”

  “Our crossroads.” June sat up slowly, folding his legs under him and turning to face Aaron more directly. He had indeed been thinking about that. So much, in fact, it was driving him crazier than Aaron messing with the guitar. He tilted his chin down, narrowed his eyes skeptically.

  “Right, have you?”

  “Yeah, of course, I have,” June said carefully. He didn’t want to fight with Aaron over it, but it was going to get old if they only went around in circles like they had before.

  “Still set on being on top?” Aaron tried to sound aloof but failed miserably. It was obvious he still hadn’t budged either.

  “Yep.” June crossed his arms. “Just for my first time.”

  Aaron seemed to consider that more seriously now. He was quiet, eyes drawn down and away—back to the guitar and then to the ceiling fan twirling lazily above them. His blush was spreading to his ears and neck now. He squirmed, and June thought he might give in this time. His stomach jumped with crickets.

  “So, you’re telling me that if I let you do me, then you’re good to let me do you?”

  “Umm…yeah. I guess.” June shrugged. It wasn’t that he’d never thought about bottoming before, he just didn’t want to be the first one to do it. Not with Aaron or with anyone else. He had control issues. Or something.

  “You realize that’s just a preference,” Aaron said, eyebrow cocked. “I’m actually…genuinely afraid. I guess.”

  June scowled. It was hard to hear Aaron admit something like that. Not because he didn’t understand, but because it inevitably came down to trust. Aaron didn’t want to bottom because he didn’t trust June? That wasn’t good. That almost hurt June’s feelings. Rationally, he knew Aaron had a more valid reason than he did, but that didn’t make his comfort level any less important. They both had to be comfortable. Period.

  “What would make it less scary for you?” he asked, trying to look as innocent as he could. He didn’t want Aaron to think he wasn’t taking this seriously. That would only further deter him. If they could compromise on something, then maybe it would lead toward the ultimate solution. At least they weren’t fighting.

  “Being on top,” Aaron clarified.

  June blew out a noisy breath and droppe
d his face in his hands. What happened to easy-going Aaron? What happened to the passive, naive teen he fell for? When he looked back up, he felt like the boy—no—man in front of him, new haircut and strong features, was not the same as he was before. He was blossoming into something confident and hardy. Less of a pushover. Less of a prep. June though for a second, he could see some of himself reflected there too; in the stubborn way he set his mouth.

  June patted the tops of his legs awkwardly.

  “What if we…I don’t know, flip a coin?” Maybe he was becoming more like Aaron too. Maybe June was giving in more easily. Maybe he was bargaining more and fighting less. Maybe that was a good thing? He didn’t know. But he did know he was fairly lucky. He could win a coin toss. He usually did.

  Aaron chewed his bottom lip for a moment, then turned and propped his elbows on his knees. “How about rock, paper, scissors?” he said. “Just once.”

  June nodded. “Alright fine. Winner gets to be on top.”

  “Loser gets to be on top the next time, no matter how bad or good it goes.”

  “Deal.”

  June held his fist in his palm and nodded. This was fair. This was what relationships were about, right? Compromise. Compromise was good. Angie would be proud of him.

  “Rock.”

  “Paper.”

  “Scissors!”

  June held a pair of peace-sign scissors out to Aaron, and his heart immediately sank.

  “Fuck!”

  “Oh, thank God!” Aaron’s shoulders sagged and the breath he’d been holding released from his lungs. He deflated back into the arm of the couch and covered his hot face with his hands. “I never win at these things.”