by Chase Connor
“You two are thicker than thieves, ain’tcha?” Oma stated blandly as she made her own plate.
Ernst nibbled nervously and looked up at me, and I just gave him a wink.
Lucas never liked meeting anywhere we might be seen by the other kids we went to school with each day. Being a naïve, mostly sheltered country kid myself, I assumed it was because I was a theater kid and he was a football player. It was a personal “head-slapping” moment for me when I realized the actual reason behind his secretive behavior. Of course, when Lucas and I had first started hanging out, I thought we were becoming just friends. I had known that I was gay…or, at least, I had a pretty good idea. Lucas hadn’t indicated that he was gay when we started becoming friends, so it never crossed my mind that anything besides friendship was developing. Later, when we kissed for the first time, I had an Oprah “Ah-ha Moment.” Obviously, he was gay—or gay-ish, which were the only LGBT terms I understood at the time—and wanted more than friendship. Knowing this, he wanted to keep the fact that we hung out a secret, even though I was not out of the closet to anyone except Oma at the time. I had just been too dense to understand what was unfolding before my very eyes. Lucas, of course, had been much quicker at figuring things out than I had been. He had always been smarter than me.
“We could go down to the bowling alley,” I suggested as we walked along the shore of Lake Erie, beyond the woods bordering Oma’s property. Lucas was skipping rocks sporadically, and I was collecting interesting pebbles in my pocket. We were fifteen and should have had more exciting things to do. “We could go see a movie or something. Ernst said he would show us some more tricks if you want.”
Oma wasn’t aware, but I had introduced Lucas to Ernst within days of becoming friends with him. I had known that he would be able to keep a secret. Just as I had suspected, and though Lucas had been gobsmacked by the appearance of a Kobold, he had kept his lips shut. He and Ernst had taken to each other after Lucas’ initial shock wore off and they always talked at least a little bit every time Lucas showed up to hang out. Lucas stayed clear of the house, though. He hadn’t wanted Oma to see him. We always met at the edge of the yard or down by the lake. But Ernst would always at least say “hello” to Lucas before the two of us left to do…whatever it was we decided to do.
Lucas’ reply was slow to come, “I like just being out here.”
“Okay.” I shrugged and bent down to grab a rock so black and shiny that it looked like obsidian.
Shoving the rock in my pocket, I turned to watch Lucas skip another one across the eerily calm surface of the lake.
“The play was really good,” Lucas stated as he slid his hands into his pockets and stared out at the lake.
“Thanks.” I smiled widely. “Oma took me to Toledo afterward last night. We got burgers and milkshakes and saw a movie and…it was kind of cool, I guess.”
Lucas smiled, still looking out at the lake.
“I mean, it was kind of stupid, too.” I backtracked. “I kind of just wanted to hang out with the cast. Grandmas, right?”
I sighed as though the weight of the world was on my world-weary fifteen-year-old shoulders. Cool kids don’t feel happy about spending time with their parents or grandparents.
“I think it’s cool.”
Surveying Lucas’ face for hints of a lie as he looked out at the lake, I found none.
“It was cool,” I confirmed.
“Mrs. Wagner seems really nice.”
“You never come inside…”
“I know. You were an amazing Professor Harold Hill.”
“When in Rome.”
“Ohio?”
“Close enough.”
“Don’t let an Iowan hear you say that.” Lucas laughed. “They’ll be fit to be tied over in I-Oh-Way.”
“We’re both going to be in trouble with a capital ‘T’.” I teased.
Lucas smiled crookedly as he turned his gaze from the sun-sparkling water and looked at me. I did my best not to swallow down whatever it was that was making my belly feel the way it felt as he looked at me. His blonde hair seemed to practically glow in the spring sun. His eyes looked even more like jade than they usually did. Puberty was having its way with Lucas—in all the best ways. His jaw was becoming sharper, stronger. His baby fat was being shed, and days playing football was making him lean and muscular. But none of that accounted for what hid behind the jade of his eyes. Kindness can be exercised, but it can’t be learned. Lucas was intimately familiar with the concept.
“You’re really funny.”
I shrugged.
“What does that mean?” Lucas mimicked my shrug with a small chuckle.
“I don’t know.” I had to keep myself from shrugging again.
Lucas stared at me for a moment before turning to walk along the shore of the lake again. I followed silently, my hands still in my pockets. Suggesting more activities we could do instead of nothing came to mind, but I let it go. Spending time with Lucas at the lake had actually become my favorite activity very quickly. I just didn’t want him to get bored with it.
“Are you coming to the football game on Friday?”
“I guess,” I said, “I mean, I always do, right? Everyone does.”
We both chuckled.
“Do you usually watch the game…or do you ignore it like everyone else?”
“I watch.”
He glanced out at the lake quickly then gave an upward nod.
“Do you…I mean, you cheer for me, right?”
I gave him a nudge with my shoulder as we walked.
“Obviously.”
He smiled, his eyes down.
“Grandpa cheers really loudly, so if I can single anyone out in the crowd, it’s usually him.”
“I guess I’ll have to cheer louder.” I shrugged, regardless of my desires.
“You don’t really like sports, do you?”
“Honestly?”
“Yeah.”
“No,” I said. “Not really.”
“But you still go to the football games?”
“Something to do on a Friday night, right?”
“You could go to the ‘bowling alley or the movies’,” He teased.
Again, I was shrugging.
“Why do you keep coming?”
How to respond to the question evaded me as we walked along the shore, the perfectly still water and lack of breeze making the silence palpable. Initially, I started going to football games because that’s just what high school kids did. They went to football games and socialized and flirted and hung out. Sometimes they actually even cheered for the team. Over time, I realized that football was no more exciting than any other sport I despised. I enjoyed socializing with my friends…mostly…but I was also incredibly bored at the games, too. In sophomore year, when Lucas started playing, though, things changed.
The blonde, good-looking guy—though I wasn’t entirely sure how I felt about that at the time—that I vaguely knew from classes and the hallways, caught my eye. It made the games more tolerable. After the very first game, I made sure to say “hello” to him in the hallways anytime I saw him. I’d smile at him in classes if I didn’t actually talk to him. A friendship slowly began to form. Lucas glanced at me as though he would add a follow-up question, so I knew that answering his first question was important; otherwise, he’d think of ten more.
“Well,” I said, “I have to support you, don’t I?”
“I guess.”
“I guess?” I feigned a chuckle. “I don’t have to come, do I?”
“No.”
“Then show some gratitude, damnit.” I genuinely laughed.
But the laugh was cut off when Lucas turned to me, took my face in his hands and pulled my face into his. My eyes opened wide in shock as his lips connected with mine. Lucas’ eyes were closed firmly with concentration and determination. The kiss itself was too wet, too firm, too…perfect. After a moment, I let my eyes close as Lucas held his mouth to mine, though that was all the kiss re
ally consisted of—two pairs of lips pressed together firmly and wetly. When Lucas finally pulled away, I let my eyes flutter open to find him staring fearfully at me. His hands didn’t leave my face.
“You didn’t pull away.”
I shook my head.
“Oh, shit.” He swallowed as his hands slid from my face, obviously concerned at my lack of verbal response. “I didn’t…look, let’s just…Rob, I didn’t mean to—”
I ignored his sputtering and reached up to lay my hand against his cheek, letting my thumb jerkily brush over his cheek. His words, fortunately, ceased, which gave me the perfect opportunity to lean in and kiss him back. Lucas shut his eyes forcefully, eagerly, as I eased my face to his. The corner of my mouth turned up in amusement as I closed my eyes and gently pressed my lips to his. Lucas seemed to melt into me as I kissed him, my thumb learning to slide along his cheek more expertly as I did so. The kiss didn’t last long—I didn’t want to attempt more than a simple kiss. When I pulled away, Lucas’ eyes stayed closed several moments longer than mine, as though he had lost himself in the moment, but when they finally opened, they looked greener than ever.
“You like me, too?”
I nodded.
“Was the kiss…okay?” He looked away but made no effort to pull his face away from my hand.
“The first one or the second one?”
“Either.”
“They were both perfect.”
Then Lucas was amateurishly pulling my face to his again right there on the shore of Lake Erie, pressing his lips against mine. It was perfect, too.
“Is that what you think?” I spun on my heels to growl at Oma.
“Of course, I do.” She snapped back. “I think you’re not thinkin’ with your head. You’re usin’ another organ.”
In case I was confused, she tapped a finger against her chest. At least she hadn’t tapped her crotch. I rolled my eyes and turned back around, headed for the living room. Oma would never let me storm out on her, especially during an argument, but I was sixteen. What sixteen-year-old hasn’t jumped on a huff and rode it away when the mood struck them? I hadn’t even stepped from the kitchen into the living room when Oma snapped at me.
“Where the hell do you think you’re goin’?”
“To my room!” I screamed over my shoulder.
“The day pigs fly!” She bellowed.
Chair legs scraping against linoleum sounded, and I picked up my pace slightly as I made my way to the stairs and started up them in a sturdy march. If I could only get up the stairs, down the hall, and to my room, maybe I could lock the door and avoid Oma. Of course, if I thought a locked door would keep Oma from continuing the argument, I was dumber than dirt.
“You swivel your ass and get back down here!” Oma shouted at me from the bottom of the stairs.
I turned on the landing to glower at her.
“No.”
“Don’t you sass me.” She put her hands on her hips and glared up at me.
“It’s my life!” I snapped. “And just like everything else, you’re telling me how to do everything!”
“Robbie,” Oma looked at me through squinty eyes, “this isn’t about gettin’ your driver’s license or a curfew. This is about your damn life.”
“Right.” I nodded firmly down at her. “My life. Not yours. Not Lucas’. Just mine. I can do with it what I like.”
Oma crossed her arms over her breast and cocked an eyebrow at me as she looked up at me standing on the landing.
“You’re plannin’ to do a damn fool thing, is what you’re plannin’.” Oma waggled her head. “You think you understand everything. Just like every other dumbass teenager. Well, you don’t know shit, Robbie.”
“What don’t I know?” I demanded. “I know exactly what this means, and you’re trying to convince me that I don’t understand.”
“You don’t understand, damnit!” She replied sharply. “Your mother and father—”
“Where are mom and dad?” I looked around dramatically. “I think the only people who get to be involved in an argument are the ones here, don’t you?”
“More fuckin’ sass.” She rolled her eyes.
“I’ve made my decision.” I crossed my own arms over my chest.
“You’re goin’ to let yourself get kilt because—for what?” Oma demanded. “What’s that gonna do for any-damn-one?”
“What’s the alternative, Oma? Tell me that. You knew—you knew—this day was coming, and you just stayed silent. The only time you’ve ever stayed silent—”
“Don’t you—”
“—and now I have exactly two choices, and you’re telling me which one to make without even discussing it!” I bellowed. “This isn’t about you. It’s about me, Oma!”
“It’s about everyone!”
“Why’d I have to be born?” I screamed down the stairs at her. “If I hadn’t been born I wouldn’t have to deal with any of this!”
Oma’s eyes grew wide as a hand went to her chest.
“I wish I didn’t know any of this shit!” I continued. “I wish I wasn’t here! I wish I didn’t know what I know! I wish I didn’t have to look at you! I wish I didn’t have to worry about Lucas! I wish Ernst was safe! I wish I had more time—”
“Shut up, Robbie!” Oma hissed, her foot rising to the first step of the stairs.
My mouth stayed open, but I didn’t say another word. Oma’s hand was on the newel post cap and the other on her chest. She glanced down at the floor fearfully, then up at me desperately.
“Don’t make wishes, Robbie. Not even in your own head,” She pleaded. “You know better.”
“Sorry.” I snapped, but my heart wasn’t in it. “I’m still learning all the rules.”
Then I stomped the rest of the way up the stairs. Once I’d made my way to my bedroom, I made sure to slam the door as hard as I could. The whole house shook.
“Stay down,” Lucas whispered as we huddled behind the bleachers.
“Okay.”
We had almost been seen. I managed to peek over my shoulder as I crouched there in the dirt under the bleachers in the football stadium. Jason and the other football players were walking through the bleachers, searching. I knew who they were searching for, but I wasn’t sure why.
“Why are they looking for you?”
Lucas looked over at me, his eyes locking onto mine.
“They still want me to join them.”
My eyes grew wide.
“But you’re not—”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Why would Jason-fucking-Morris think you’d want anything to do with them, Lucas?” I whispered. “They’re assholes.”
Lucas chewed at his lip.
“You’re obviously so not.”
He gave a nervous smile.
“You’re not—you’re not going to join them, are you?”
“I’d rather die.”
“I don’t want that either.” I teased.
“They’re going to make my life—our lives—really hard, Rob.” Lucas sighed. “I’m so sorry I got you into this.”
“We both cause trouble for each other.” I gave him a crooked smile.
Lucas returned the look.
“Trouble won’t stop us, though.” He stared into my eyes. “Right?”
“If it does—it’ll only be temporary.”
I held out my pinkie.
It was a juvenile gesture.
Lucas stared down at my pinkie with a wicked smile. Then he pulled me into him and smothered my mouth with his. When he pulled back, he was still smiling.
“That’s how I make promises.”
“I like your method.”
“LUCAS!”
Lucas was out of breath, and his fingers were laced through mine as we slid to a stop behind the tree. The moon was dark, and I could barely see any stars through the skeletal canopy above us. Somehow, I felt like the moon was watching us, tracking our movements through the woods. Hopefully, it knew how to keep it
s mouth shut. I pushed Lucas against the tree as he tried to control his breathing and not pant loudly so as to not give away where we were. How was I breathing normally and the football player was out of breath after our jaunt through the cold, slumbering woods?
“ROBERT!”
“Oh, shit.” Lucas hissed, his eyes fearful.
“It’ll be okay.” I grabbed his face between my hands and made him look at me. “I promise you it’ll be okay.”
Lucas looked into my eyes, the fear slowly melting away.
“You can run.” I pleaded with him. “Run to the lake. Then keep running along the shore until you get to the road. Keep running until you get home.”
“I won’t leave you.”
“This is only going to end one way, Lucas,” I whispered desperately. “I don’t want you to see it.”
“I can’t let you do this alone.”
“I won’t hate you if you run.”
“You will eventually.”
“Do you think I’ll love you forever if you stay?” I managed to tease though I was terrified as the sound of crisp, cold leaves being stomped sounded in the distance. “Is that why you’re doing this?”
“I know you’ll love me forever.” He responded, then kissed me roughly.
It was a quick kiss, but perfect like every kiss that came before it. Lucas pulled back, his hands on the side of my face.
“Everything is temporary,” Lucas stated firmly. “Everything.”
“Everything.” I nodded. “Are you sorry?”
“I’ll never be sorry.”
“Me either.”
“Can we make it back to the house?” Lucas swallowed hard. “Before…will I just slow you down?”
“I want you with me.” I grabbed his face in my hands. “I want you to be the last thing I see.”
Lucas’ eyes started to leak.
“I’m going to miss you.”
“I’ll miss you more.”
“What if—what if it’s not temporary?”
“Hey!” I whisper-hissed, holding his face firmly in my hands so he had to look at me. “Every-fucking-thing is temporary. Except us. Except us, Lucas. I promise you that.”
Lucas stared into my eyes, two trails of tears winding down his face.