Don't Let Me Go

by J. H. Trumble

  I scratched my head. I wasn’t one to kiss and tell, but then I realized that wasn’t true. I was, and I would, and when Luke leaned across the table, his eyes flashing, and said, “What’s it like? Please, please, please tell me,” I did.

  An abridged version to be sure. Not the more tender moments, the memories that hurt now, the ones that I’d replayed over and over in mind on lonely nights. Instead, I told him about the more embarrassing moments, the ones we laughed about now, or had laughed about, like the cop knocking on our window that night we went parking in Ridgewood Park and the morning after that first night I’d “crashed” at Adam’s house, the morning we were caught in aforesaid compromising position.

  Chapter 39

  Last November 21

  Caught in a compromising position

  A small prodding on my backside. Adam’s naked body under me, warm, soft, and hard at the same time. Eyes still closed, I pressed my mouth into his shoulder and allowed myself to drift happily back to sleep. Another small prod. Lazily I opened my eyes.

  “Mea!”

  I yanked the sheet up to my waist.

  Adam was instantly awake. I rolled off him as he bolted upright. “Mea! How did you get in here?”

  “Your door was locked, so I used a pixie stick. See.” She proudly held up a thin green plastic stick.

  “Mea?” Adam’s mom called out from the top of the stairwell.

  “Oh my God,” I gasped in panic.

  The door was wide open.

  Before either of us could move a fraction of an inch to something that resembled an appropriate sleeping arrangement for two teenage boys, his mom was in the doorway.

  “Mea!” she scolded.

  The shock registered on her face before the last syllable faded. It took only a second for her to take it all in. She sucked in a sharp breath and went pale. “Oh, shit.” She averted her eyes. “Mea! Out of this room right now, young lady.”

  “Okay,” Mea sang out. She skipped out of the room, oblivious to the fact that she had just outed her big brother with that cursed pixie stick.

  Adam’s mom quickly closed the door behind her.

  “Guess what, Mommy,” we heard Mea say through the door. “Nate doesn’t have a tattoo on his ass like Adam does.”

  “Mea Jefferies, where on earth did you learn that kind of language? What tattoo? We have to talk, young lady.”

  “Oh, God,” I groaned when I was sure they were gone. I banged my head back against the headboard, hard. “Just kill me now.” The jolt of adrenaline that shot through me when I woke had left my fingers numb. I thought if I tried to stand, I’d pass out.

  Adam ran his finger up my arm. “You’re pretty cute when you’re mortified.” He chuckled.

  “You’re laughing? I can’t believe you’re laughing. I mean, oh my God, look at this room.” Actually, the room was every bit as neat as it had been the night before, but the bed, oh, Jesus, the bed was a fucking mess. The sheets were rumpled and damp, the bottom corners had come loose, and the comforter was nowhere to be seen. The air mattress his mom had left, apparently while we were “watching” a movie, was still tightly packed, still sitting on the chair, completely and obviously untouched.

  “Hmmm ...” Adam sat up next to me and surveyed the bed with that wicked smile I had come to love and dread. “Looks like somebody—or should I say some bodies—had a good time last night.”

  I groaned and flipped over, burying my face in the pillow.

  Adam brushed his lips against the back of my neck. He traced a line down my spine with his tongue, inching the sheet down as he went. My body responded, and my breath caught in my throat. This was just wrong.

  I flipped over. “Have you lost your ever lovin’ mind? Your mom ... oh, God ... oh my God, your stepdad too ...”

  He grinned. “We wanted to come out.” He gestured at the bed. “Well, we’re out! And what’s done can’t be undone.”

  He was doing that Shakespeare thing again. I groaned and pulled the pillow over my face. “I would have preferred something a little more subtle.”

  He pulled the pillow off, flung it across the room, and kissed me. “Ah, come on. Where’s your sense of danger and fun?”

  “I think it just ran down my leg.”

  He chuckled. He seemed to be considering something. I was afraid I might know what that something was too.

  “No!”

  He laughed.

  Suddenly he stopped and looked toward the door. “Do you smell that?”

  “What?”

  “Bacon.”

  I glared at him. “Oh, hell no.”

  “Oh, hell yes,” he said, grabbing my arm, laughing. “A quick shower and then it’s time to put your big-boy pants on.”

  “We can’t take a shower together!”

  He cracked up. “Well, we certainly can’t show up at the breakfast table like this.” He nuzzled my neck and drew in a deep breath, then let out a loud sigh. “My parents know the smell of indiscretion.”

  We took a shower. It wasn’t all that quick.

  Adam’s mom and stepdad sat across the bar from each other, leaning on the counter and talking in low voices when we finally dragged ourselves into the kitchen.

  Actually, I was the only one dragging. Adam was buoyant. I was astounded at how cavalier he was behaving, as if we’d just performed some life-saving surgery rather than unspeakable acts of passion on each other.

  His mom turned away when she saw us and busied herself with Mea, who was watching a cartoon at the other end of the bar, but Ben greeted us with a cheery, “Good morning.”

  I wanted to die right there. I couldn’t even meet his eyes. Why hadn’t I bolted when I had the chance? I was keenly aware that Adam and I were both freshly scrubbed, our hair still wet from the shower. My face burned. Parts of me were pleasantly sore and thankfully behaving for the moment. That was something, I guess.

  Ben cleared his throat. “Hungry?”

  “Starved,” Adam said, accepting a plate and handing it to me. He took the next one for himself.

  Starved? Starved? Oh God. I was going to throw up or hyperventilate or stroke out right there on the kitchen floor.

  Adam pushed out a bar stool for me with his bare foot. I sat, still not trusting myself to look up. His stepdad slid a platter piled with bacon and eggs and toast over to us. Adam dished up our plates.

  “So,” Ben said, a hint of mischief in his voice, “did you boys sleep well?”

  His mom shot her husband a look over her shoulder.

  I choked on my orange juice and Adam patted my back until I could stop coughing long enough to catch my breath.

  “Great,” Adam said. “You okay?” he asked me.

  Uh. Let me check. No. “Fine.”

  His stepdad nodded his head, a curious smile on his face.

  His mom ran out of things to do for Mea and returned to her stool, embarrassment, shock, mortification all written on her face. My heart pounded as I waited for whatever was coming next. Whatever it was, it wouldn’t be good. Next to me, Adam was shoveling in the eggs with gusto. I wanted to kick him. Have the decency to at least look contrite!

  She looked at Adam. “You have a tattoo?”

  “A dragon!” Mea said brightly.

  Adam winked at his little sister, then looked back at his mom. “Do you want to see it?” He could have been talking about a haircut for all the pure driven snow in his voice.

  “Not right now.”

  Adam shrugged. “Okay.” He got up and crossed to the refrigerator. “Nate, you want some more orange juice?”

  I glanced up. “Sure,” I mumbled. His mom fussed with Mea’s braids. She turned back suddenly and caught me watching her. We both dropped our eyes. I knew then she was as nervous as we were ... or rather as I was because Adam seemed to be enjoying the whole thing.

  Ben cleared his throat and they exchanged a look. “Adam, come sit down,” he said.

  His mom looked like she might hyperventilate. “Maybe we sh
ould talk about this later?”

  “Talk about what?” Adam asked all innocent like.

  He was going to make her say it! I wondered, not for the first time since I’d met him, if a person could die of embarrassment. I forced myself to take a small bite of toast and kicked Adam under the bar when he sat down. He grinned and squeezed my thigh.

  She took a steadying breath, got a nod from Ben, and jumped in. “Nate, you seem like a nice young man.”

  “He’s a very nice young man, Mom.”

  Thanks you for defending my honor, but no thanks. Would you please shut up! I couldn’t believe he was toying with her.

  She raised her eyebrows as if to say, Are you done?

  Adam gestured that she should continue.

  She put her hands over Mea’s ears and cut to the chase. “I don’t like the idea of you boys having sex. I think you’re too young.”

  This time I choked on a bite of egg and just avoided spraying it all over the counter. We were not having this conversation!

  Adam patted me on the back. “I’m eighteen,” he said. He crunched on a piece of bacon.

  “I know you’re eighteen. I was there when you were born.”

  Ben folded his arms on the counter, clearly enjoying the show. I noticed the conversation hadn’t killed his appetite any more than it had Adam’s. I couldn’t say the same for mine or his mom’s.

  She tried appealing to me. “Nate, when you came to spend the night last night, I had no idea—”

  “Is Nate Adam’s boyfriend?” Mea asked out of the blue.

  The room went completely and utterly silent. Even the auto-drip coffeemaker seemed to be holding back its gurgle. Adam looked at me. I looked at him. His mom looked at us both. His stepdad leaned back on his stool, a smile stretching across his face, and waited. Adam reached under the bar and took my hand, never taking his eyes from mine.

  “Yes, honey,” she said. “I think he is.”

  “Good. ’Cause he’s really cute.”

  Adam leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. The effect of that simple public gesture was incredible. My face grew warm with pride this time. My heart expanded in my chest with gratitude for what I believed was their acceptance. I suddenly realized there was at least one place in this world where we could be a couple.

  His mom cleared her throat.

  Adam pulled away and winked at me.

  She sucked in a breath and blew it out, causing her lips to flutter, and shook her head. “I never thought I’d have to say this to you boys. House rules. No more sleepovers and doors stay open. Got it?”

  Adam grinned and took a swig of orange juice. “Sure, Mom. Whatever you say.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I muttered.

  “And, as the only adult in this room”—she gave her husband a look that said, Thanks for nothing—“I feel I have to say something.”

  “Okay,” Adam said, shrugging. “Shoot.”

  I held my breath.

  “I wasn’t born yesterday. I know that you boys are going to do what you’re going to do no matter what I say. And I can’t say that I approve. But, look, I ... uh ... I guess I need to know that you’re being safe.”

  That again.

  Adam laid down his fork and leaned toward his mom. “I promise, Mom,” he said in a sober tone, finally, “if Nate gets knocked up, I’ll do the right thing by him.”

  Ben choked back a laugh.

  “Don’t be a smart ass,” she said.

  “You said ass,” Mea said in a small, singsong voice.

  Ben pinched his lips, but it wasn’t enough. He snorted. Adam dipped his chin and laughed into his chest. As embarrassed as I was by the entire conversation, my funny bone had been tickled too. His mom’s mouth twitched with the effort to stay serious. In the end she lost it.

  “Out of the mouth of babes,” Adam joked. We broke into a collective fit of hysteria. Just when it seemed the laughter might calm, it ramped back up again until we all had tears in our eyes.

  I doubt Mea understood even half of what was going on, but she giggled along with the rest of us.

  Finally we calmed down. “Seriously, Mom, you don’t have to worry. Nate told me if you don’t suit up, you don’t get in the game.”

  I did not! I kicked him under the bar. I’d kill him later.

  His mom looked embarrassed behind the smile that tugged at her unwilling lips.

  But the walls were down and the anxiety washed away with the tears streaming down our faces. What was left was a kind of euphoria I’d never experienced, a moment in which it seemed like everything in the universe had finally lined up and locked into place. I would never have guessed that giving up my deepest secrets would feel so empowering. I doubted his parents understood what that moment meant to me. There would be many times down the road that I would reflect on how good it felt to bask in their acceptance and love. Perhaps it was naïve, but I was beginning to think my fears had all been for nothing.

  His mom was slowly shaking her head. “I knew it.”

  Adam and I exchanged another look. We knew what it was.

  “I think I’ve known since you were probably twelve.”

  “Why didn’t you say something?” Adam asked, his eyes on her.

  “Because I wasn’t absolutely certain. I hoped you’d tell me when you were ready. If you were gay, I wanted it to come from you.” She reached across the bar and took his hand.

  For a while the talk turned to who knew what, when, and how. As it turned out, there was a lot about Adam she never knew, some of which brought her to tears, some of which brought Adam to tears. I admired Ben for asking questions too and for encouraging Adam to be completely open and for accepting him just as he was. Adam held my hand in a vice grip on top of the bar. With small glances my way for affirmation, he told them how we met, how our relationship had grown, and how much we meant to each other. For all his earlier cutting up, I could see how important this conversation was to him, and my heart was glad.

  “Nate,” she said, looking at me after the story had unfolded, “do your parents know?”

  “No, ma’am, they don’t.”

  “Maybe you should tell them.”

  I wasn’t sure I could ever have that discussion with my parents. But I promised I’d think about it.

  His mom pointed her spoon at us. “No more sleepovers. Got it?”

  Chapter 40

  God, what had happened to us? How was it possible for two people to be so close, to share so much, and then nothing?

  Luke sat back in his seat, his eyes wide and glassy, bright splashes of color on his cheeks, and I realized I was really starting to like him. He was so easy to read, so innocent and full of wonder.

  “Okay, we’re not talking about that anymore,” I said and changed the subject. “You’re going to need some support. You’re part of us now—me, Danial, Juliet, Gaby, Mike, Warren. They’re like a big gay support group. They’ll be yours too if you let them.”

  He nodded.

  “What about your parents?” I asked.

  “Do you think I should tell them?”

  “If you think they can handle it, yes. It helps to have your parents behind you. But if you think they’ll go ballistic, no. Not until you’re older. I know that sucks, but ...”

  I was thinking about Danial’s brother again. Maybe he’d still be alive if he’d waited to introduce his boyfriend to his parents. If he’d finished school first and been independent, maybe he’d be doing great things now instead of lying cold in a grave somewhere. But then I thought how great Adam’s parents were, and how much I needed my mom when my world fell apart. She hadn’t dealt with it so well at first, but eventually she did come to terms with it. My dad, not so much.

  “I’ll think about it,” Luke said.

  Over pizza we talked about school, movies, just stuff—my new guitar I was picking up next week, his fear of bugs, looking at the moon through Danial’s telescope.

  “Who’s your favorite music artist?” he asked.
>
  “I don’t know. It depends on my mood. Who’s your favorite?”

  “Taylor Swift,” he said, without hesitation. Ouch. “At band camp last summer we used to blast ‘You Belong to Me’ from someone’s car stereo and dance in the street behind the band hall during our lunch break.”

  I smiled at the image in my mind. “You and Adam would get along great,” I said, then instantly regretted it.

  He smiled back, sheepishly. “I taped the Sexy Bitch T-shirt to your locker.”

  “I know.”

  Later I walked him to his car. He’d parked in the farthest corner of the lot. It was darker there than the rest of the lot, and I didn’t want him going alone. I leaned against his car as he unlocked the door with the key. He held up the remote. “Battery’s dead,” he said, grinning. Instead of opening his door, he turned back to me and shuffled his feet, looking up at me from under his eyelashes. “That was fun,” he said.

  “Yeah. It was,” I said and meant it.

  “I’ve never kissed another guy before.”

  Well, that was direct. I was amused by the way he got right to the point. I wasn’t sure if his words were an invitation or an assumption, but I guess it was all the same in the end. He stepped toward me, closed his eyes, and pursed his lips. I fought the urge to laugh. I brushed my thumb across his lips. “Just relax your lips,” I said softly.

  He opened his eyes and relaxed his lips. I hated myself for it, but I couldn’t help thinking, This one’s for you, Adam. I leaned in and brushed my mouth against his. His eyes closed and he moaned, making me grin despite the flash of heat I’d just felt. I pulled away.

  “Did I do it wrong?” he said, his eyes snapping open.

  I tried to draw my grin back in, but it just wouldn’t go. “No, you’re doing fine.” He was so eager that I decided to give him something worthy of a first kiss. I leaned in and kissed him gently at first and then with a bit more bite. He tasted like cilantro and garlic. It wasn’t bad, but my body didn’t sizzle with electricity the way it did when I kissed Adam. Anytime my lips got anywhere near Adam, I wanted to lose myself in him, meld my lips, my body to his, crawl inside his skin. Just one more time I wanted to hold him to me. But that just wasn’t going to happen.