Burning Britely

by Deidre Huesmann

  Jeff said nothing.

  “So why don’t you tell me the real reason you didn’t fight back.”

  Jeff glanced at the oven clock. It’s too early for this. But he knew his father’s answer. In the Navy, it’s never too early.

  He lowered his voice. “It’s hard to explain.”

  “Hard to explain, or hard to say?”

  Jeff swallowed. “Maybe a little more of the latter.”

  Dad nodded, like he’d expected as much. “There’s only one way to make it easier.”

  Spit it out.

  Mentally, it took some preparation. A lot of defense structuring, putting up walls, protecting himself against the pain sure to come. Even his heart he tried to chill—but that was one thing he couldn’t fully protect. Like a ribcage, he could be prepared, but there were holes.

  “Because he wasn’t lying,” said Jeff. “I’m gay.” Now that the words were out, it was hard to stop them. Like if he kept talking, his father wouldn’t get a word in edgewise, and wouldn’t tell him how disgusting and vile he was. “Bisexual, actually. I figure about 52.2% into guys and—”

  His father held up a hand for silence.

  Jeff’s mouth clamped shut.

  “I don’t need a detailed breakdown,” said his father. But was there a dry quality to his voice?

  “You’re not mad.” It was a statement, not a question.

  To his surprise, Dad rolled his eyes. “A man can’t choose a job on a submarine, spend months among nothing more than other men, without coming to terms with some facts of life. And the fact is, a percentage of men will have similar inclinations. They’re men all the same.”

  Jeff stared. His jaw was slack.

  “I care about who you’re attracted to about as much as I care about this mug.” Dad lifted the cup for emphasis. “Just tell me the right gender before I write any wedding vows and we’ll be square. Understood?”

  Jeff nodded. Stupidly. Unsure what else to say.

  His father stood, walked over to the coffee maker, and poured himself another cup. After a long silence, he glanced over his shoulder. His voice was gruff. “Relax. Nothing’s changed in this house.”

  Without words, Jeff stood there awkwardly, watching Dad go about his usual morning routine: coffee, turn on his tablet, read the news. It was clear the conversation was over.

  It was even clearer that he’d underestimated his father, and Jeff couldn’t have been more relieved.

  Chapter Twelve

  Suspension was one hell of an outdated concept. For students like Jeff, it meant the world came crashing down around them. He had no homework to catch up on, since it was mostly done, and nothing to study, since there were no tests for the next week. For students like Rob, he imagined it was like being freed from prison with no real consequences. Thank God Maya had only received in-school suspension—though even that was massively unfair.

  Jeff didn’t know what happened to Braeden. Maya tried to tell him over the phone, but he was too scared to talk about him, and had changed the subject over and over until she’d given up.

  Besides, Braeden hadn’t called. Not once in four days.

  All of this left him listless and puttering around the house. Dad still had to work on base, and Mom worked afternoons for her part-time job, so Jeff found himself doing things he’d rarely done before: watching TV, writing letters to Braeden that ended up shredded and crumpled and burned. All of them were a variation of the one he’d written before: that he had feelings for Braeden and was sorry to inconvenience him and ruin his life.

  On the fifth day, a Wednesday, Dad pulled him aside and said, “I understand you don’t have homework right now, but you can’t mope around the house all day. Do something productive. Mow the lawn. Wash your mother’s car. Vacuum. Understand?”

  He did.

  For the rest of the week, Jeff threw himself into menial chores. Part of him hated it, but the other part took strange satisfaction in keeping the house so tidy. He could see visible relief in his mother’s stance when she came home, so he even endeavored to wash and fold his own laundry.

  All a part of growing up. Jeff just wished it hadn’t come at the expense of his education.

  On Friday afternoon, he was pulling weeds from the tiny lawn. He had no music to distract him, not even the old radio his mother had insisted he use. Jeff liked his silence. His solitude. It helped him focus, and today, that focus was on plant extermination.

  He was on his knees, covered in dirt, sweating profusely, when a shadow fell over him. Jeff automatically looked up—and his shoulders tensed.

  Braeden stood there, hands in his pockets, curls falling in his face. He nodded. “Yo.”

  Jeff said nothing. He just stood, feeling stupid and mute, and removed his mother’s gardening gloves.

  Neither of them said a word for a few minutes. A couple cars drove by. Birds flitted from one tree to another. The breeze carried the tangy smell of cut grass from another yard.

  Braeden scratched below his ear. He didn’t look Jeff in the eye. “Can we talk?”

  Jeff glanced at the house. Nobody was home but him. He didn’t want to invite Braeden in, either. Not if it all went south. He needed his house to remain untouched by everything.

  “Sure,” he said.

  Braeden gestured with his head. “Go for a walk?”

  Jeff rubbed his mouth before remembering how dirty he was. The sweat mingled with dirt created a smear along his jaw. He used his shirt to wipe it clean—and to hell with what Braeden thought of his body at this juncture.

  “Sure,” he repeated. “Let me grab my boots.”

  Braeden nodded and stared at a house across the street.

  Jeff went inside and washed his hands and face in the kitchen. He found his hiking boots and yanked them on, laced them. He closed and locked the door on his way out and walked the short distance to the sidewalk. Days ago, he might have been embarrassed for Braeden to stand in his tiny yard, near his small home, seeing his meager means. He would have been humiliated if Braeden thought he was poor.

  That was the least of his worries, now.

  Braeden glanced at Jeff’s boots, then at the house. “I thought your dad was Army.”

  Jeff’s gaze landed on a tree in the distance. It seemed like a reasonable direction to head, and the tree itself gave him a physical goal. He started walking. “Navy.”

  “Don’t they have housing on base?”

  A few weeks ago, Jeff would have taken offense, thought Braeden was making a jab at his living situation. Now, he knew better. He’s nervous. Uncomfortable. Trying to make conversation. “Mom wants him to retire here, so this is their investment.”

  “Oh.”

  The quiet between them swelled to an uncomfortable bubble. Jeff almost felt like he could reach out and touch the awkwardness. He imagined it would feel wet, oily, greasy.

  They reached the tree. Jeff stopped walking, unsure where to go next. He rubbed his mouth and looked around. His heart pulsed in odd, frightened beats.

  “Look,” said Braeden, so suddenly that Jeff jumped. “I’m sorry about what happened at school.”

  Jeff shrugged. Looked away.

  “Seriously. I didn’t mean to … I don’t know. Get involved. Embarrass you. Make you mad.”

  Make me mad?

  Jeff didn’t dare lift his stare from the concrete beneath his shoes. “You didn’t do any of those things.” His voice came out muted, defeated. “Asshole Rob did.”

  One of Braeden’s large feet edged into his field of vision. Jeff tried not to stare. “I don’t know how to ask this, man, but … was he right?”

  A line of fury zigzagged through Jeff’s sternum. He met Braeden’s gaze, viciously glad to see the taller boy flinch. “That I’m a faggot?”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Then what did you mean?”

  “Are you…” Braeden appeared to fumble for words, found none he was comfortable with, and resigned himself. “Gay.”
/>   Jeff folded his arms. To hell with it. He was already outed. Braeden wasn’t asking because he didn’t know, he was asking to confirm. “I prefer bi, myself, but if I had to round up, yeah, I’m gay.”

  “Bi,” muttered Braeden. For a moment his gaze turned inward. He frowned. “That doesn’t fit, either.”

  “Well, I didn’t damn well ask you, did I?” snapped Jeff.

  Braeden blinked then shook his head. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “You’re having a crap time deciding what you do mean.”

  Running a hand through his curls, Braeden sighed. “Tell me about it. I don’t know what to make of this.”

  “It’s not hard.” Jeff felt the words flatten as they left his mouth. “I’m bi. I like girls. I prefer dudes. Just depends on how fickle I’m feeling.”

  A wry smile twisted Braeden’s mouth. “Somehow, I doubt that.”

  Mental defenses were rising, like a castle pulling up its drawbridge. “If that’s all you wanted, you could have asked Maya. Picked up the damn phone and called my parents, even.” Called me. Done this stupid shit over the phone. “My mom knows. Hell, my dad knows. They don’t care.”

  Frustration tugged Braeden’s brow and mouth. “I don’t, either.”

  That should have made him feel better. It didn’t. “Good for you.” Jeff turned to leave, but a large, firm grip on his elbow stopped him.

  “Don’t be a dick, Jeff,” said Braeden. “It’s usually endearing, but right now it’s kind of pissing me off. Why don’t you shut up and let me say what I have to say?”

  Because it’s not about you, he wanted to scream. The protest died in his throat. It was a lie, and he knew it. It was completely about Braeden. It had been from the moment their eyes had met post-goose attack. Since that fateful morning, Jeff had thought of little more than Braeden. No one, guy or girl, had so completely consumed his thoughts before.

  Jeff lowered his gaze to Braeden’s hand. His knuckles were white beneath the tan. Jeff marveled that he barely noticed the death-grip Braeden had on him.

  “Let me go,” he said. “And I’ll give you five minutes to get it all off your chest.”

  Braeden’s hold relaxed. “Thank you.”

  “Four minutes, fifty-seven seconds.”

  Shaking his head, Braeden muttered something beneath his breath that sounded like an insult. Then he folded his arms and rocked back on his heels, contemplated the sky.

  Finally, he said, “You like me, don’t you?”

  There was no reason to be coy about it. Jeff’s chest constricted, but he forced the word out. “Yeah.”

  “Thought so.”

  “Congratulations,” said Jeff.

  “Shut up already.” Braeden sighed. “Look, man, I’m sorry I’ve ignored you the past few days. It all sort of clicked after I hit Rob and you wouldn’t look at me. You just kept holding Maya’s hand. And then Brenda told me about that stupid Fire Wall shit and…” He drew a deep breath. “I didn’t mean to ignore you, I just … didn’t want to say something stupid.” He looked embarrassed—something Jeff had a hard time believing was real, even though he could see it for himself, plain as day. “I was doing some research.”

  Jeff couldn’t help voicing his incredulity. “You?”

  “Shut up,” Braeden repeated. “But yeah. And I needed time to think.”

  Jeff nodded. In that moment, his justifiable anger gushed out of him, like he was a balloon and Braeden’s honesty had popped his fragile ego. “To see if you still wanted to be friends.” It was going better than he could have hoped, but still not great. Braeden’s rambling just pressed the defeat into his chest, like boots packing dirt into a hard floor. “Look … don’t force it.”

  Braeden opened his mouth, closed it, then repeated the process a couple more times. Jeff’s heart squeezed deep in his chest. God, that’s adorable.

  “I was more wondering,” said Braeden slowly. “Whether or not I was also bi.”

  The air left Jeff’s lungs. His throat dried up, his insides turned to sand. He swallowed, hard.

  “I’m not,” said Braeden. “I mean, I don’t think I am.”

  A fine tremor shook Jeff from his toes on up. “I don’t understand.”

  Braeden raised his hand in a half-hearted shrug, then let it fall to his side. “The more I thought about it, the more I started thinking … maybe I’m the same. Gay. Bi. Whatever.”

  “But you’re not.”

  “No,” he admitted. “Not when it comes to anyone else, anyway.”

  Tingles swept across Jeff’s face, down his neck, across his shoulders. Any words he might have had lodged in a wet ball in his throat. He looked up, searching Braeden’s expression, and he found … honesty. A tenderness that left him heated and weakened, like he had a fever all over again.

  “So.” Braeden’s voice was soft. He looked at Jeff, not quite imploring, but not totally confident, either. “This is new territory for me. What would you call a straight guy with feelings for another dude, when it’s just the one?”

  For the first time in his life, Jeff didn’t have an answer. Not even in his head. His mind was a blank.

  A rueful look took over Braeden’s face. “Does the silence mean my five minutes are up?”

  Oh, hell, no. Never.

  “You can have five more.” Jeff’s voice barely came out in a whisper.

  Braeden’s smile was so bright that he could have lit a night sky. He stepped closer, and that was all Jeff needed. Because it had built to this. Because he’d erupt if he didn’t do something.

  He pulled Braeden down until their lips met. What remnants of fear remained vanished as Braeden wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close. The kiss was perfect. It grounded him, made him feel safe, like nothing could ever hurt him so long as he stayed in this moment. From the hitch in Braeden’s breath, he seemed to feel the same. Jeff couldn’t stop himself from smiling.

  This is it. What it’s supposed to feel like.

  They paused for breath. Braeden leaned so their foreheads touched. His breath was warm against Jeff’s mouth. “How about, straight with a Jeff Young preference?”

  Jeff smiled. A real smile. Not forced, not wry, not bitter or grim. Just a movement that felt good, because in that moment, he felt amazing.

  Because despite all of the heartache and trouble and fire and brimstone, this moment was worth it.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Works for me.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Jeff double-checked and triple-checked his backpack. Everything was in order. He had all he needed—except, perhaps, a pair of brass knuckles. But he didn’t want to risk getting suspended again, especially since his parents were still fighting to scrub the first from his record, so he didn’t bother wishing.

  Downstairs, his mother was making breakfast. He’d woken up early just to see her before he left. Dad was already at work.

  “Morning, Jeffy.” Mom set down a plate of eggs, toast, and turkey sausage. “Do you have everything you need?”

  “I think so.” He should have been nervous about going back, but it was hard to be, even knowing what might happen. All he could see in his mind’s eye was Braeden. His smile, the glint in his green eyes, the fierce tone he’d taken on when defending him from Rob.

  Mom sat down beside him. She rested her chin on the heel of her hand.

  Jeff shifted. “Don’t watch me eat. It’s weird.”

  A small smile touched her lips. “I’m just wondering why you’ve been so happy for the past couple days.”

  Jeff almost choked on his toast. He grabbed his glass of water and took a huge swig.

  “Anything special?” teased his mother. “Or anyone?”

  He managed to swallow the food and mutter, “Don’t say dumb things.”

  A knowing grin lit her face. For the first time, he wondered if his mom and Maya had a lot in common. They both had an infuriating way of reading him.

  Jeff kept his mouth busy with breakfast, so he wouldn’t h
ave to answer more questions. Then he stood. “I’m going to be late.”

  “No, you won’t.”

  Jeff shot her a quizzical look.

  The doorbell rang.

  His mother grinned.

  Oh, for… Jeff grabbed his backpack and paused in the hallway to snag a jacket as well. He opened the door.

  Braeden stood on the front step, a lopsided grin on his face. “Yo.”

  Suspicious, Jeff cast a look over his shoulder. His mother was nowhere to be seen. But she’d known … how?

  “Hey,” he said cautiously.

  Braeden nodded over his shoulder. “Your mom said I could give you a lift.”

  Heat crept up his cheeks. “When?”

  “Last night.” Braeden raised his eyebrows. “I called, but she said you were in the shower.”

  Jeff shook his head.

  Lowering his voice, Braeden said, “I didn’t mind the mental imagery.”

  The warmth exploded in his face. Jeff shouted a hasty goodbye to his mother and shoved past Braeden, toward the car parked on the sidewalk. He stopped just shy of the passenger-side door.

  Braeden caught up with him. “Sorry. Borrowing the car meant I had to give Brenda a ride, too.”

  Jeff looked at him. “Does she…?”

  Braeden grinned.

  As if on cue, Brenda opened the door and stepped out with a huff. “Don’t mind me. I’ll just sit in the back so you two can be lovey-dovey.”

  Jeff shook his head. “No.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “Don’t be a dick.”

  He sighed. “I mean, no, we can’t. Braeden’s driving.”

  Braeden chuckled.

  “God, you’re such a buzzkill,” muttered Brenda. She cast her brother a withering look. “Have fun with that.” She opened the door behind Jeff’s seat.

  “I think it’s cute,” said Braeden.

  “Still here, you know,” said Jeff.

  “And you’re still cute.”

  Jeff rubbed his mouth. The pause gave him a chance to think, and he decided to get into the car before he said something stupid. Or, more stupid, really.