The Family We Make

by Dan Wingreen

  Ah. So, Spencer’s the Scary Teacher, then.

  “I see your ability to comprehend the English language hasn’t improved at all since last year, despite my best efforts,” Spencer said, fixing Dean with a stern, predatory smirk that all but screamed oh, so you’re the weak link.

  “Mr. Kent,” Corbin said, his eyes narrowed in warning.

  “Maybe I should have sent you to summer school,” Spencer went on, ignoring Corbin completely. “I’d hate to think any students left my class without getting the full benefit of my lessons.” Spencer snapped his fingers. “I know! We should set up an after-school tutoring session, just you and me, just to make sure you understand exactly what—”

  “Mr. Kent,” Corbin snapped.

  Spencer huffed. “We’ll discuss this later, Dean.”

  “No, you won’t,” Corbin said. “And,” he continued when Spencer opened his mouth, “we’re not here to talk about anyone’s academic record. If you’ll recall, we’re here to find out what happened to your son.”

  Tim leaned toward Spencer. “This isn’t helping Connor,” he said, as quietly and as gently as he could. He understood Spencer’s frustration, his anger, his need to lash out. Tim felt all those things too, if he was being honest. He also understood Spencer would always do what was best for his son, as long as he had a reminder of what that was. Spencer didn’t so much as glance in Tim’s direction, but he knew by the slight slump to Spencer’s shoulders that he was listening.

  “Fine.” Spencer crossed his arms and glared at Corbin. “But we already know what happened.”

  “Yeah, and we didn’t do it,” Julie said, staring Spencer in the eye and showing none of her earlier almost-fear of him. “Look, Mr. Kent, I’m sorry your son got beat up, but it wasn’t me or my brother that did it. I don’t know why you think we did, or why he said we did, but we didn’t.”

  “Have you spoken with Connor today?” Corbin asked.

  “No,” Julie said, her eyes wide and earnest. “We’ve barely ever talked to him. The freshman hall is nowhere near any of our classes, so even if we wanted to, we wouldn’t have the time.”

  “This didn’t happen between classes,” Corbin said. “According to Mr. Kent, Connor’s nose was still bleeding when he walked into his classroom fifteen minutes ago. Since this is a half day, there was nowhere you or your brother needed to be.”

  “We had to get to the bus,” Julie said. “Our parents work until dinnertime, Principal Corbin. If we miss the bus, we’re stuck here. We’d never risk that.” She turned toward Connor again, but this time her expression held nothing but vague sympathy. “But even if we had all the time in the world, we still wouldn’t beat up some freshman we don’t even know. We’re not assholes.”

  “Language.” Corbin fixed her with a stern glare.

  “You said you don’t have time to go to the freshman hall?” Spencer asked suddenly.

  “Yeah?” Julie answered slowly.

  “And that’s why you couldn’t have beaten up Connor, right? Because the freshman hall is too far away from your classes?”

  “Right. But like I said, even if it wasn’t, I wouldn’t beat him up.”

  “Because you don’t know him.”

  “Yeah. I mean, I don’t beat people up at all.”

  Spencer eyed her sharply. “Then how do you know he’s a freshman?”

  Julie stilled. “Huh?”

  “It’s not a hard question, Julie,” Spencer said. Despite his short stature, when Tim thought back on this moment, he would swear on a stack of Bibles Spencer had been looming over her like a gargoyle on a New York skyscraper. “If you don’t know Connor and you never go by the freshman hall, how do you know my son is a freshman?”

  Tim could almost see the bright, flashing panic lights going off behind Julie’s eyes as she realized the trap she’d walked into. Satisfaction surged through Tim’s body. Even with all his years of helping troubled youth, there wasn’t a single part of him feeling the smallest bit guilty for how much he wanted to see these two get the punishment they deserved.

  “Well,” Julie said slowly, “look at him. He’s so small; how can he not be?”

  “Oh please.” Spencer rolled his eyes. “Cut the bullshit.”

  Tim winced. Not because of the language, but because he could see from the expression on Corbin’s face he was giving Julie’s words serious consideration.

  “Language, Mr. Kent,” Corbin said.

  To her credit, and Tim’s dismay, Julie was quick. She’d barely glanced at the principal before realizing he was her best bet and turning on her best, innocent expression. “Principal Corbin, I swear me and Dean didn’t do anything to Mr. Kent’s son. If he’s not a freshman, I’m sorry for assuming, but you can’t blame me for thinking someone so short is a ninth grader. I don’t know him, though, and I’ve never even talked to him before. And neither has Dean, right?”

  After a barely noticeable hesitation, Dean shook his head. “No, never.”

  Corbin nodded thoughtfully.

  You can’t be serious…

  Spencer’s jaw clenched, and this time Tim was the one who nearly lashed out. This was the exact kind of thing Spencer had complained about on their first date, and Tim wasn’t exactly new to it either. Bullies could be so charming and earnest when they were trying to get out of trouble. Sadly, often adults, especially school administrators, fell for it. They’d rather believe the pleasant fiction that nothing bad ever happened in their school than have to deal with the fact that kids could be evil little sociopaths when people with authority over them had their backs turned. Connor was hunched over and staring at the ground, his face was a bloody mess, and he was obviously terrified of the two other kids in the room, but even that could be explained away by someone determined enough. It wasn’t fair. Connor didn’t deserve this. And neither did Spencer.

  After a long moment, Corbin sighed and rubbed his bulbous red nose. “Mr. Ke…Connor. Can you tell me what happened?”

  Connor cringed and glanced up. His eyes went from Corbin to Spencer, then slowly slid over to the Hendersons even though it was obvious they were the last people he wanted to look at. He shrunk in on himself when his eyes met Julie’s, and Tim knew he was about to cave. He didn’t even blame him. Confronting a tormentor was terrifying.

  Tim reached out and gave Connor’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “It’s okay,” he said.

  Connor’s eyes swam with shimmering tears. “I…” He trailed off and glanced away, ashamed. That was okay too. Tim didn’t really need him to finish. “I can’t.” “I’m scared.” “I don’t know what to say.” All variations on the same theme. All sentiments a strong, stubborn, independent kid like Connor should never have to say out loud in front of people who made him feel anything but.

  Tim knelt so he was gazing up at Connor. Connor refused to meet his eyes, at first, but Tim was patient. Because Connor was strong, when it counted. And maybe he even trusted Tim, now. Trusted those words Tim had said to him on Halloween were true. Sure enough, after a few moments, Connor slowly met Tim’s gaze. When he did, Tim gave him his best smile. “It’s okay. You don’t need to say anything.”

  Connor frowned. “But…”

  “No buts. Everything’s going to be okay.”

  Some things were more important than morals.

  With one last reassuring squeeze, Tim stood up and faced Corbin.

  “Connor doesn’t need to say anything. I saw what happened.”

  *

  “I saw what happened.”

  For Connor, the rest of the meeting passed in a daze. He’d felt drained before, emotionally. Mostly after fighting with his dad, which, secretly, almost always ended up making him a little sick to his stomach. This felt different. He wasn’t really drained, though that would probably come later. This felt more like…draining. Slowly. Like a partially clogged sink after someone pulled the stopper. Everything inside him, the terror and shame and humiliation and frustration and self-loathing, it was circling th
e drain, slowly slowly slowly seeping down through the crud backing it up, the dirty water that made up those feelings slowly exposing a slightly stained porcelain sink as it drained. The clean, shiny whiteness breaking up the stains were mostly made up of bits of half heard conversation.

  “…against the wall, hitting him…”

  “…there to see the whole thing…”

  “Bullshit! That’s not what we did…”

  “…up, you idiot…”

  “…suspended for a week…”

  “…apologize, Spencer, but these things…”

  “…well, I’m taking the rest of the day off to be with my bloody kid so…”

  And, through it all, a densely woven thread tying everything together, was one single thought.

  He lied for me.

  No matter how many times the thought ran through his head, it still sounded fake.

  He lied for me. He lied for me. He lied for me.

  A door opened. Someone led him through it. The bright sun and the cold, sharp wind hit his face at the exact same time. He took three steps and stopped, stunned, as the sink finally emptied.

  “Connor?” Tim’s hand on his shoulder. “Are you all right?”

  Connor blinked as the world came back into focus, and slowly turned his head toward Tim. He was kneeling on the ground, eye level with Connor, and all Connor could think now was He’s getting his pants dirty. He lied for me, and now he’s ruining his pants. He…he…

  “You lied for me?”

  Connor hadn’t realized he’d spoken out loud until Tim smiled at him. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

  He sounded…proud.

  “Why?”

  “Because I meant what I told you on Halloween,” Tim said. “I’m always on your side.”

  Connor’s breath hitched in his throat, and for a second he nearly forgot how to breathe. Except, that wasn’t right at all. No, it was more like…being able to breathe properly for the first time in his life.

  “A-and,” he said, his voice shaking, “did Principal Corbin really suspend Dean and Julie?”

  “Oh yeah.” This came from his dad, who squatted down next to Tim. “And it won’t be the last time either. If they ever do this to you again, they’re gonna wish all they got was a suspension. I’ll see to that.”

  The remaining weight on Connor’s shoulders evaporated. Sure, he’d heard his dad say similar things before, but this time Connor believed him. Maybe it was because Dean and Julie had finally gotten in trouble when they always seemed so untouchable, but Connor kind of thought it might be something else. Ever since they moved out of Grandma and Grandpa’s house, it had been Connor and his dad against the world. No one else had ever gotten so far inside their bubble. No one else had ever stayed. Until Tim. Tim didn’t hover just outside their life. Tim didn’t have his own family to focus on. Tim didn’t move back to Ohio. Tim didn’t spend most of the year traveling around the country in an RV. Tim stayed. Tim had burrowed himself so far into their lives that Connor couldn’t imagine going back to the way things were before. It would have been hard enough losing Tim when he was only his friend, but it was impossible now, when he was so much more. He’d become someone Connor could hold on to and rely on, someone he could run to when the pressure and responsibility of growing up and standing on his own became too much, someone who would always be there when he really needed it.

  Or, rather, someone else who was like that.

  Is this how it feels to have two parents?

  Connor thought it might. And if it was, he wanted to grab the feeling and hold on to it forever.

  “Thank you…” Connor whispered. He barely even noticed the tears flowing down his cheeks, even though he’d been totally mortified every other time he’d cried in front of someone. How could he be embarrassed when strong arms were pulling him close, protecting him, shielding him, caring for him? He didn’t even bother trying to figure out whose arms they were.

  How could that possibly matter, when the other set joined in soon after?

  “I love you, kid,” one of them said, softly. He thought it might have been his dad, but in the end that didn’t matter either. Connor’s response would have been the same no matter what.

  He closed his eyes and hugged them both back as hard as he could. “I love you too.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  As the credits for the latest episode began to roll, Tim carefully paused Netflix and took stock of the two bodies surrounding him. Connor, on his left, dead to the world, his head on Tim’s shoulder and one leg slung over the arm of the couch. Spencer, on his right, curled up under his arm and, if Tim’s estimate was correct, he hadn’t been watching anything but Tim for at least the last half hour.

  Which, coincidentally, was right about when Tim started having trouble concentrating as well.

  “Is he sleeping?” Spencer whispered.

  “Yeah.”

  “On you?”

  “Yep.”

  Spencer let out a content little hum. “Fucking adorable.”

  Tim chuckled quietly. “Yeah.”

  “Is that okay?” Spencer asked after about a minute of contented silence.

  “That he’s sleeping on me?”

  “Yeah.” Spencer shifted against Tim’s chest. “It’s not too much, is it?”

  Tim frowned. “Too much what?”

  “You know…like, closeness, or whatever…”

  “Is it too much closeness for the son of the man I love to fall asleep on my shoulder?” Tim asked, raising an eyebrow. “Shockingly, no.”

  Spencer sighed. “That was a stupid question, wasn’t it?”

  “Very.”

  “Sorry.” Spencer wrapped his arm around Tim’s waist and gave him an apologetic squeeze for emphasis. “I just…worry.”

  “About what?”

  Spencer snorted softly. “Everything. But right now?” He chewed his lip. “I think I’m mostly worried that you’re gonna get sick of us at some point.”

  Tim…wasn’t sure how he felt about that. “Really?”

  Spencer shrugged. “I guess? I mean…you lied to my principal today, and now Connor’s falling asleep on you and we’ve barely been together for more than two months and…I don’t know. Do you think this is all going a bit fast?”

  “Not at all,” Tim answered. He paused then, surprised at how much he meant it. Tim couldn’t remember ever being this content in a relationship. Hell, he couldn’t remember ever being this content, period.

  Spencer sat up, his face echoing Tim’s surprise. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah.” Tim smiled. “I’m…really happy.”

  “Even though we barely go on dates and you’re getting sucked into dealing with my kid’s parent crap? You really don’t want…I dunno, more?”

  Tim rolled his eyes. “Of course I want more. But I want more of what we already have.” He paused to gather his thoughts. “It’s…I like it. A lot. I feel like…” Please don’t let me be overstepping… “I feel like I have a family.”

  Spencer inhaled sharply. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.” A thought occurred then, causing Tim’s heart to constrict painfully. “Is…is that okay?”

  Spencer let out a quiet, incredulous laugh. “‘Is that okay?’ he asks. Of course it’s okay. That’s why this whole thing is fucking me up. Today, when you lied to Corbin for my kid? I’ve never felt more…” He paused. “I never felt more in my whole life. Maybe when I held Connor for the first time, maybe. I don’t…fuck, I feel like I’m getting everything I ever wanted, and I’m just…dragging you along into it.”

  “If you are, I’m being dragged willingly.” Spencer didn’t laugh. Tim sighed. “Where is this coming from? We were having a nice night, right?”

  “The best I’ve had in a while,” Spencer said. “But that’s the problem.”

  “It’s a problem?”

  “I didn’t mean it like that!” Tim winced at the volume of Spencer’s voice, and quickly checked to make sure Connor was s
till asleep. He was.

  “Then how did you mean it?”

  Spencer chewed his lip. “Okay, so maybe I meant it sort of like that. Not that I didn’t love tonight,” he added quickly. “But…okay, full disclosure, I know exactly how this is going to sound, but I’m terrified at how easily my life is falling into place right now. For years it’s been just me and Connor, and as much as I tried to make that enough for both of us, I think I always knew there was something missing. Something we both needed. But I never looked for it. I pulled the blankets over my head and closed my eyes and told myself over and over that everything was fine. I never dated—fuck, I barely even made friends. Then I meet you, and suddenly it’s like, ‘Hey, maybe I could take a look for that thing I’m pretending I don’t need over in Tim’s direction,’ and, bam, there you were. Just fucking…there for the taking. So, I reached out and took it.”

  “And…that’s a bad thing?”

  Tim had been going for wry humor, but Spencer nodded quickly, wide-eyed and serious. “Yes! How the hell is it fair that I find exactly what I need right out of the gate? People look their whole lives and never find someone who fits into their life the way you fit into mine. I looked for, like, ten minutes, and you were literally the first place I looked. Great for me, but…” He wrung his hands. “What about for you?”

  God, how could he possibly be feeling so many things at the same time? Tim loved the picture Spencer was painting of him, but at the same time he hated being the cause of one of Spencer’s seemingly random bouts of insecurity.

  “Spencer…”

  “Don’t ‘Spencer’ me,” he mumbled, glancing away. Tim smiled.

  “Spencer.” Tim gently lifted his boyfriend’s head. “Do you really think I’m not feeling the exact same way?”

  Spencer blinked. “Yes…”

  Tim rolled his eyes fondly. “You’re kind of an idiot sometimes.”

  “I’m aware.” Spencer paused. “And fuck you, by the way. I’m being serious here.”

  “So am I.” Spencer started to speak, and Tim pressed two fingers against his lips, silencing him. “Why do you think I spend my free time volunteering with kids?” Spencer crossed his arms and shot Tim an adorable, pouty glare before biting the tips of his fingers. Grinning, Tim lowered his hand. “You can talk now.”