“You okay?” Brent looked up to see Lowell frowning at him.
Brent closed the message from Micah and put his phone on the bed. “Yeah. Just got a homophobic message from someone about the pictures I posted today.”
Lowell’s look was sympathetic. “I’m sorry. Was it a friend?”
“We used to be friends,” Brent said quietly. “Now? I don’t know.”
Chapter Sixteen
June 7, 2013 – Milwaukee, Wisconsin
Lowell
When Lowell stepped out of the bathroom, Brent was lying on the bed, staring at his phone, in the exact position he’d been half an hour before when Lowell had gone to get ready. He’d hardly spoken a word since last night.
Lowell could see he was hurting. Whatever his so-called friend had said had touched a nerve. Brent was normally such an outgoing guy that it was jarring to see him quiet and subdued. And Lowell had no idea how to help.
He set his suitcase on the bed and went through it. If they were going to be camping for the next few weeks, he needed to re-organize. He was trading in his leather shoes for hiking boots. No skinny jeans or slim-fit button-downs for a while. He was going to be wearing zip-off pants and moisture-wicking tees.
Ick.
But in the end, it wasn’t the terrible style that bothered him. It was that he had no idea what to expect from camping. He could navigate an unfamiliar city with no qualms. But he didn’t have a clue what to do outside of one.
He’d never set up a tent or cooked food over a fire. Were they even going to cook it over a fire? He’d seen portable stoves at the camping supply store they’d gone to. Maybe there was one somewhere in the back of Lowell’s car. Everything from here on out was a big question mark and it made Lowell antsy. What if he hated it? What if he totally failed at all of it? What if he looked like a total idiot in front of Brent?
But Brent had been a great sport about going to Pride and wearing makeup and letting Lowell push him out of his comfort zone. He could let Brent push him out of his.
Lowell let out a noisy sigh. “So, what’s the plan today?”
Brent looked up from his phone. “Well, I was just about to talk to you about that. I know we were originally planning to leave to go camping this morning, but I have a surprise for you, if you’re up for it.”
Lowell looked up from the stack of clothing he was folding. “Yeah?”
“I thought we could spend an extra day in Milwaukee. I was able to adjust the reservation at the campsite and at the hotel here, so that won’t be an issue.”
“Okay. Doing what?”
“First of all, I need to do laundry. I’m out of underwear and going commando today.”
“I really didn’t need to know that,” Lowell said with a laugh. “But don’t you have the ones you bought a Pride?”
“Oh, right. I keep forgetting about those.”
Lowell wondered if he just wasn’t comfortable wearing them.
“So, what are we doing after the laundromat?” Lowell asked. Now was not the time to push Brent on his choice of undergarments.
“Well, I found an ice arena in the area with open skate time today. I thought I’d teach you to skate.”
Lowell tilted his head and stared at Brent. “You want to teach me to ice skate?”
“Well, yeah. It was fun when I taught you how to play pool.”
Lowell grinned at him. “You know what? Going ice skating with you does sound like fun. Let’s do it.”
“Awesome. We just need to get our laundry together and make sure we have enough quarters for machines.”
“I have one suggestion. Why don’t we drop our laundry off to be washed and have brunch instead? My treat. The breakfast at this hotel is awful.”
“Dude, I’m going to be spoiled by the time this summer is over,” Brent said with a laugh. “It’ll be weird going back to a normal life. I won’t know what to do without you around.”
“Well, if you’re staying in Chicago for the internship, it’s not like we’ll be that far apart,” Lowell said. “I’m going to Chicago School of Professional Psychology for my masters.”
“That doesn’t sound like a real school.” Brent’s expression and tone were skeptical.
Lowell laughed, pretty sure Brent was trying to get a rise out of him. “It is. I promise. It’s accredited by tons of reputable organizations. It’s actually really highly regarded, especially their emphasis on cultural diversity. It’s perfect for what I want to do.”
“A very good fake school then.”
Lowell stuck out his tongue. “It’s in River North and IIT is just a little ways south near Bronzeville. If we want to hang out after this summer is over, we totally can. That’s like, twenty minutes on the train. Besides, Caleb and Nathan will be around there too. It’ll be just like being back on Western’s Campus.”
“Ugh.” Brent made a face. “Hopefully not. I’d like to think things have changed a little.”
“Well, the totally queer version anyway.”
“I like the sound of that.” Brent smiled at him. “Hey, that reminds me. Before we go, I should email your dad and tell him I’ll take the internship.”
“Awesome.” Lowell smiled back, glad to see Brent happy and excited again.
***
“So, I just leave my clothes here, and they wash and dry and fold them?” Brent asked as they carried bags of laundry to the laundromat they’d found online.
“Yep, that’s the idea.” Lowell said.
“And it’s really not that much more expensive than washing it all myself in the laundromat?”
“Not by a whole lot. They just charge by the pound. And when it means we can do something else for the next few hours instead of babysitting laundry ...”
“Totally worth it.”
After they dropped their clothing off and agreed to pick it up the following morning, Lowell directed him to Engine Company No. 3, a place in Walker’s Point that offered brunch. It was an old firehouse that had been converted into a restaurant. He’d discovered it last night online. Thankfully, he’d made a reservation. It was packed.
They ordered coffee right away and looked through the menu.
“Look, there’s chicken sausage for you,” Brent pointed out.
Lowell hadn’t quite figured out how Brent managed to walk that fine line between looking out for what he ate and not being pushy about it. Even Caleb—much as Lowell loved him—drove him a little crazy sometimes with badgering him to eat more protein. Somehow, Brent’s little comments didn’t needle him the same way.
Lowell settled on a meatless Columbian dish with eggs and black beans while Brent went with the caramel apple French toast and chicken sausage. Lowell would bet anything he was planning to sneak some onto Lowell’s plate at some point. The thought made him smile.
But after the waitress left, Brent seemed lost in thought as he sipped his coffee.
“Is the stuff with your friend still bothering you?” Lowell asked quietly.
Brent shrugged. “Yeah. I mean, it keeps popping up in my head. He said some nasty things. And while I got some of that in online comments on news articles when I came out—”
“You read the comments?” Lowell was horrified. “You should never read the comments.”
“I know. I tried not to, but I got sucked in, and then I couldn’t stop.” He rolled his eyes. “But anyway, that didn’t bother me so much. I didn’t really care what people I’d never met thought of me. But someone who knows me? Man that hurts. And I know it’s his own baggage and shit that he’s spewing on me, but I just can’t stop thinking about it.”
Lowell reached out and squeezed his forearm. “I’m sorry, sweets.”
Brent’s smile was half-hearted. “Thanks. I just ... I just thought he was a better friend than that.”
Lowell let his hand linger, hoping the reminder that someone was there for him would help.
June 7, 2013 – Milwaukee, Wisconsin
Brent
The rink was
pretty much empty other than a small cluster of kids and parents at one end. Brent dropped to the bench and kicked off his athletic shoes. He winced when he put his feet in the skates and began to lace them.
“Ugh. I’m trying not to whine here, but I’m used to having skates that are molded to my feet. These are going to be awful.”
Lowell grinned at him as he laced his own skates. “Poor little spoiled hockey player.”
“Bite me.” Brent knocked their shoulders together. “Fit makes a huge difference.”
“Oh, honey, I know.” Lowell winked. Brent grinned back.
Once his skates were securely laced and as comfortable as they were ever going to get, Brent looked over at Lowell’s. He’d done a good job, and the laces were done correctly.
“Nice work!” Brent said. He dropped to his knees in front of Lowell and lifted his skate into his lap. “Let me just check the tightness. Novices are afraid of it being too tight, but the rule is: the tighter the better when you start out. They loosen up as you get going, anyway.”
“Oh, I don’t even know what to say. I could make so many jokes, but they’re all way too easy.”
Lowell made a strange sound, somewhere between a laugh and a snort, and Brent looked up in time to see Lowell clap a hand over his mouth. Tears leaked out of the corners of his eyes as he giggled. It was contagious, and Brent doubled over with laugher too. His stomach ached by the time he finally glanced up at Lowell again. The look sent Lowell off on a fresh round of giggles, and it took forever for them to subside.
Finally, Brent let out a final snicker and focused on the skate again, checking for any slack in the laces. He untied and retied the laces, but it was more for show. Lowell had done a damn good job. He checked the second skate and, satisfied that they were both solid, peeled the blade guards off and tossed them on the bench. He stood and held out a hand to Lowell, expecting him to need help standing on skates for the first time, but although Lowell took his hand, he didn’t wobble once as he straightened.
“You have great balance,” Brent said as they walked across the padded rubber mat to get to the entrance to the ice. He was sorry Lowell had let go. “That’ll be a huge help.”
“Strong core muscles from yoga and Pilates,” Lowell explained.
“Yeah, that makes sense.”
Brent stepped onto the ice, trying to ignore the annoyance of unfamiliar skates beneath him. He was on the ice, which was what mattered. He wasn’t sorry he was quitting playing competitively but was going to have to find a rink with open skate time and go on a semi-regular basis or he’d have to deal with withdrawals. He held out his hand to Lowell to help him onto the ice, bracing himself for Lowell to slip or fall into him, but Lowell was rock solid.
“Wow, you’re doing ...” His words trailed off as Lowell pushed off, gliding away from him with smooth, even strokes. Lowell made a few wide circuits around the ice, throwing in a bit of fancy footwork while Brent stared, dumbfounded. Lowell was graceful as hell, and as he picked up speed, Brent realized he was fast as well.
“You fucker,” he whispered, a grin spreading across his face.
He watched as Lowell reversed direction, skating toward the center of the ice where it was clear of other skaters. His arms went wide, and Brent held his breath as Lowell took off in a toe loop jump, revolving twice before landing with a slight wobble, then stopped with a flourish and a bow. Brent cheered and clapped along with a few people around the rink.
Lowell straightened and took off, skating toward him. As he approached, Brent could see a grin lighting up Lowell’s face. They met halfway across the ice and collided in a controlled crash of bodies. “You little fucker,” Brent repeated as he grabbed Lowell around the waist and twirled him around. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were a figure skater.”
“You didn’t ask. You assumed I couldn’t skate and that you were going to be a big manly man and teach me.” Lowell batted his lashes, and Brent chuckled, knowing he was right.
“Okay, you’ve got me there. You did say you didn’t play sports though.”
“I said I didn’t play any contact sports.”
“Fine. Fine. I’m impressed as hell that you’re so good though. How long did you skate for?”
“I started lessons as a kid, and I continued through high school. So, for almost twelve years, I think? I didn’t really have time in college, unfortunately. Growing up, I wanted to play hockey, but my mom wouldn’t let me because of the anemia.” Lowell rolled his eyes. “Figure skating was considered safe enough since it was no-contact, and I liked being on the ice. It wasn’t hockey, but it was still fun.”
“Dude, figure skating is hard. The athleticism is insane. Were you good enough to compete?” Brent asked, finally letting go of him. Lowell began to skate, and Brent followed his lead.
“I might have been. I never really had the chance. My mom wouldn’t let me push myself that hard.” Lowell quickly reversed directions so he skated backward beside Brent. “I’m sure I would have been fine. I mean, I doubt I could have made it to the Olympics, but I wish I’d had a chance to try.” A frown shadowed Lowell’s face.
“I bet you would have looked good in the spandex,” Brent joked.
Lowell grinned. “That is my big complaint about hockey. The uniform is way too bulky. I much prefer baseball pants.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard enough about what you think about Ryan Nelson’s ass.”
Smirking, Lowell took off, and Brent followed a few seconds later. It wasn’t long before they fell into sync, the bite of their blades into the ice made a satisfying “shick, shick, shick” sound as they raced each other, deftly weaving around the less experienced skaters. Lowell’s face lit up in a huge grin, and Brent could feel the smile on his own face widening as they mimicked each other’s moves. Although Brent had skated more recently than Lowell, apparently, he was hampered by the unfamiliar skates, so he and Lowell were pretty evenly matched.
Lowell skated backward for a moment, his cheeks pink with cold and excitement, his eyes sparkling with happiness. Brent stumbled, the toe pick catching on the ice and making him flail to catch his balance. Lowell reached out, steadying him, and when he moved to let go, Brent caught Lowell’s right hand with his left. Brent held his breath, afraid Lowell would pull away, but after a brief, uncertain glance, Lowell allowed it.
Their linked fingers hampered Brent’s rhythm for a moment until he fell into sync with Lowell again, and they moved together.
Side by side, they skated, hands intertwined.
It felt good. Right in a way he hadn’t expected. And it brought up a whole host of questions that began to tumble through his mind.
What are we doing? What does this mean? On and on until he wanted to scream.
But what did it matter? He should just enjoy this for what it was: a few hours on the ice doing something he loved with a guy he was really starting to like.
Brent pushed away the confusing questions in his head, choosing instead to enjoy the feel of Lowell’s cold fingers in his and the slick ice beneath his blades.
Chapter Seventeen
June 7, 2013 – Milwaukee, Wisconsin
Lowell
Lowell looked at Brent over the rim of his Styrofoam cup as he took a sip of piping hot chocolate. The too-sweet liquid burned a little as it went down his throat, but the warmth in his stomach was pleasant.
“Having fun?” Brent asked and Lowell nodded. He was.
Brent looked content. He’d pulled off his cap, and his hair stood up on one side. Lowell smiled at the sight. It was easier to think about Brent’s sun-streaked hair than the confusing thoughts swirling through his head. Like why he’d taken Brent’s hand when he offered it. And why he’d been reluctant to let go when they were done skating.
“This was a good idea. Thanks.”
“Even though I totally misjudged your ability to skate?” Brent teased.
Lowell smiled. “Especially because of that,” he said lightly. And because
you don’t treat me like an invalid, Lowell thought. It was the first time he’d been on the ice in years and one of the few times he’d done so without his coach watching his every move. Lowell had known the man reported everything back to his mother, and when Lowell had attempted more complex jumps and spins, his coach had lectured him. Lowell wondered how much his mother had paid to keep him on her side. When Lowell quit, the man had admitted to Lowell that he had a lot of untapped potential that had been squandered by his mother’s demands he take it easy.
“You ready to go back to the hotel?” Brent asked.
“I’m tempted to skate more,” Lowell admitted. “But I’ll probably be sore as hell tomorrow as it is. I haven’t done this in a long time.”
“You could go more often in the future,” Brent suggested.
“Yeah, maybe I will.”
Brent picked up his cup and Lowell’s and tossed them both in the trash. Lowell stood, and he felt a funny jump in his heart when Brent reached out and took his hand.
Lowell would have thought Brent had done it without thinking, but the sidelong glances he kept shooting Lowell as they walked toward the exit made him wonder if Brent expected him to pull away. Lowell enjoyed doing the last thing people expected. But he’d be lying if he said that was the only reason he liked the feel of Brent’s slightly calloused palm against his.
The heat of the summer air was staggering after being inside the cold arena. Brent let go of his hand to strip off his fleece.
“Oh, shit, I should have started the car before we came out,” Lowell said with a groan. He held the button on the key fob, and a few seconds later, the Porsche’s engine roared to life.
Unfortunately, the inside of the car still felt like a furnace as Lowell slid into the driver’s seat. Black leather interiors were a bitch.
“Fuck, how is it this hot already? Ugh.” Brent pulled at the neck of his T-shirt. “July is going to be horrible.”
“At least, we’re heading north,” Lowell offered.
“You do realize that means black flies and mosquitoes, right?”
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