by Misha Horne
But, that part of him was new and cautious and didn’t talk so loud yet. Probably not very trustworthy. So he listened to the part that told him to get dressed and go to the goddamn track because if he didn’t, his head would explode. Because everybody and everything could just fuck off.
* * *
He loved the college track. Yeah, it was just a loop like every other track— the sounds his shoes made were the same, and the hot, sweet smell was the same, but once he was running, all those things disappeared anyway. He loved this track because it was private. If he wanted to run, if he wanted to exhaust himself beating back all the things that chased him, there was no one to see. No one who cared, anyway. No kid or teacher hanging around who might notice him out there and pass it on to his dad. When he’d gotten here, and Mackey had handed out laps like candy, even to him, especially to him, he’d been stunned. And then he’d owned that goddamn track and not one person had said he shouldn’t.
He’d tried explaining it to his dad a couple of times, how running cleared his head, helped him think. He didn’t get it, or he didn’t care, or he didn’t listen, but he never bought into it. It was maybe the only flat out No he’d ever gotten in his life. “It’s not a hobby, Kyle. It’s not for that. It’s a talent. Don’t waste it on yourself.” Like it was limited, somehow. Like he was only supposed to do the thing he was best at when other people were watching.
So, he’d had to sneak out. How stupid was that? Go to the parties he was supposed to go to, and hit on the girls he was supposed to hit on, and leave early and go to the track. Think about the guys he wished he had the nerve to hit on instead. Wonder what the fuck that was like. When he’d do it. How he’d do it. What the guy would look like, and how he’d be able to tell.
It hadn’t ended up happening that way, in the end all his obsessing didn’t even matter. But at the time, it was all he could think about, and it made him crazy. The way things always did when they got too big for his brain and spilled over into his body. But if he ran fast enough and long enough, he could separate the two. There was an override, and if he could get to the place where he could reach it, he could become just his body. His thoughts didn’t exist at all.
But getting there was hard. He had to run until he couldn’t take another step and then farther. Until the world blacked out around him and his vision was hanging by a thread and his lungs felt filled with glass. Until he hit an invisible wall and started to choke and his bones lost all meaning and he was not quite collapsing, not quite throwing up, not quite dying, pulling himself back one breath at a time.
And then, for a little while, everything was quiet.
* * *
He didn’t realize until he was halfway home that it was dark, didn’t realize until his hand was on the door that he’d forgotten his key. The one that Juno had left beside the bed a hundred years ago. But that was on the inside of the door. And he was on the outside. Way outside.
He knew he was in a bad place. Recognized the cold gnawing in his gut, the sense of wandering around lost, not knowing who he was, the silent rage of being ignored when he deserved attention. The world snapping on a filter that made everything claustrophobic and loud, where his needs seemed gigantic and impossible and unidentifiable.
Suddenly, his stomach hurt. Not just a stitch in his side, but a rip in his gut, probably didn’t have much to do with running. He wasn’t sure if he belonged here. Or anywhere. It took all the balls he could dig up to open the door. If it had been locked, he might have just left. Just walked away from the place he was supposed to live, because he was too afraid to go inside. But, it wasn’t locked.
Juno was on the couch watching game footage. Except he wasn’t. It was obvious when he looked up that he hadn’t been watching anything, he’d been waiting for him. And Kyle had no idea what the expression on his face was. Most of the time, he was as easy to read as anyone else, if he said attention to the signs. But, whatever was going on now was coming from one of those places that Juno had blocked off completely.
“You look like shit,” Juno told him quietly. “Where have you been?”
He felt like shit too, but he was only just realizing it. It was seeping into him, bit by bit, filling him more than he wanted to take, his bones turning to sludge and his mind turning to dust. Or maybe the other way around. It was hard to think.
He wanted to fight and scream and cry and fuck and go to sleep. But mostly, he just wanted to take a shower.
“The track.”
“Doing what?”
He looked down at himself, sweat drenched clothes sticking to him. “What the fuck do you think? Running.”
“For how long?”
“I don’t know. A while.”
“Did you drink anything?”
“Yeah. Tequila.”
Juno snorted, pointing to the couch. “Sit down, smart ass. I’ll get you some water.”
“I don’t need it. I’m taking a shower.”
“Come back here.”
“I said I don’t want it.”
“Come. Back. Here,” Juno repeated, each word heavier that the last, carrying a bigger warning.
“What?”
“Sit.”
“Juno, I’m disgusting.”
“Did I say it was fucking optional? Sit your ass down.”
The bathroom and the shower were seeming further and further away, so he sat down, just because he wanted to, on the arm of the sofa and he waited for Juno to bring him a bottle of water. And fumed.
He was always bringing him a goddamn bottle of water. Like it solved every problem in the universe. Like he couldn’t get his own fucking water if he was thirsty. Like he was too stupid to know how to take care of himself.
Maybe he was.
He sagged a little under the weight of his own thoughts, suddenly exhausted. Suddenly so fucking exhausted and incapable and overwhelmed. Right back where he started. He just wanted Juno to make him feel better. And he was doing a fucking miserable job of telling him that. He still wanted to crawl into bed. Reverse everything and undo the last few hours, because he was so sore he wanted to cry, and it really hadn’t done any good. He was still pissed off, he was still worked up, and he was still couldn’t shake his dad saying You’re slipping and Maybe you don’t belong there.
“Here. Drink this.”
He didn’t look up, didn’t even acknowledge Juno as he pressed the bottle into his hands. Just swirled it around, watching the water turn into a tiny cyclone inside the plastic. That was what he felt like, swirling and spinning inside. Not even really sure what was wrong other than he was pissed off and unsettled and scared about something he probably should be happy about.
He fantasized about throwing it across the room, watching the bottle bounce off the wall and spray water everywhere. But his arms wouldn’t move. Then he fantasized about lifting it up to his lips because his mouth was suddenly so fucking dry, but he couldn’t seem to pull that off either.
Instead, he watched it slip out of his hands and fall a hundred miles onto the rug, spilling out and following along the lines of the pattern for a while before veering off, spreading out and disappearing into the carpet, leaving a dark wet patch behind. He wasn’t even sure if he’d dropped it on purpose.
Juno slid a hand around the back of his neck, his fingers cool and soft against he skin. “Okay, come on, kid. You’re right. You need a shower.”
He let Juno lead him down the hall, undress him and hold him and wash him in the shower like he was helpless. Hands and soap and water running up and down his body and he barely felt any of it. He was numb and dazed and still somehow panicked, slurring his words as he tried to explain that he wasn’t helpless, he could wash himself, although he clearly couldn’t. His legs could barely hold him up. So, he let Juno wash his hair and stroke his back, like he had a choice in the matter, and around the time he wrapped a towel around his waist, he felt his batteries start recharging. And realized he was probably in some trouble.
* * *
Instead of getting into bed with him, Juno pulled the sheets up around him and then sat on the edge of the mattress, which made him feel strange and lonely and absurdly young. Made him feel nervous, actually, until Juno reached out and brushed his fingers over his forehead, sliding between his damp skin and wet hair.
“You’re a mess, rook.”
For some reason that melted over him like a compliment, and he slid further down into the bed, pulling the sheets closer and feeling his towel unhitch from his hip.
“I know.”
He closed his eyes for a second, maybe longer than a second, because when he opened them, Juno was standing over him, handing him another bottle.
“Drink this. All of it. Right now.”
He guzzled it, felt his tongue flattening and his gut chilling from the inside out like he’d swallowed an ice bucket. Because he hadn’t eaten anything since… he couldn’t even remember. Fuck, what an idiot.
“I don’t know why you think basic rules of the human body don’t apply to you. Groundskeeping plus practice plus no sleep and stress and hours on the track adds up to a mess like this. And I don’t understand why it’s so difficult for you to drink fucking water.”
“I told you I was bad at following rules.”
Juno sat back down. “Do you think this is funny?”
“No.” Christ, he felt like he was in Mackey’s office all over again.
“Well, were you trying to scare the hell out of me? Because you did a great fucking job.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I came home and you weren’t here. But that key was. You didn’t leave a note, you wouldn’t answer your phone. I had to talk you down off a ledge a couple of times last night, convince you that I wanted you here. And you still didn’t… I didn’t know if you were coming back.”
“Oh.”
“I hate when you do that.”
“Do what?”
“Just say Oh. What does that mean?”
Wow. Juno was actually pissed off. It was like seeing a new species of animal.
“I don’t know. It means I’m sorry, I guess.”
“Well, as long as you guess.”
He didn’t really know what to say to that.
“Was this supposed to be one of your games? Was I supposed to chase you? Because I didn’t know where you were.”
“No!”
“Why didn’t you answer your phone?”
“I was busy.”
“Were you at the track all this time?”
“I guess.”
“For three hours?”
“Yes, for three hours. I guess. What, you think I’m lying?”
“I never said you were lying. But that’s crazy. That’s way too much.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re gonna exhaust yourself. Make yourself sick. Like you did, you idiot.”
“I don’t need your permission. I don’t need anyone’s permission.”
“I didn’t say you needed my permission. I said that’s way too much. There’s a difference between acting like a brat and just being stupid. Going by yourself, working yourself too hard, not drinking anything. That’s a great way to fuck yourself up.” He paused, taking a breath, lowering his voice. “I’ve seen you do this before, you know.”
“Do what?”
“Not take care of yourself. Freak out. Spend too long on the track. You do it when you panic. You do it when you can’t calm down.”
He slumped back against the pillow, not realizing he’d been leaning forward. “I know.”
“Bad things happen when you can’t calm down, rook.”
“I know.”
Juno reached out and stroked his face, sliding his knuckles down his cheek. “So how about you tell me what the problem is, and we see if we can fix it.”
His stomach didn’t know if that was a good idea or not. It flipped back and forth between butterflies and outright nausea when he thought about handing his lame ass problems over to Juno. Of letting him fix everything. Make him feel better. Take care of him. Like he was already taking care of him. Like he’d always taken care of him. Jesus, what was the point of fighting it? It was what he wanted, anyway. He sighed.
“I just got… mad. And when I get mad, I go to the track. I just, it’s what I do. I’m not supposed to, I just do.” He shrugged. “I didn’t think about telling you. I guess. I never tell anyone where I’m going.”
“Okay. I get that. What were you so mad about?”
He hesitated, still not exactly sure, just that it was stupid.
“Is it something I did? Something we… did together?”
Fuck, that just about killed him. Juno wasn’t supposed to sound like that. Nervous or guilty or whatever it was. It didn’t feel right. He liked being able to wrap him around his finger, but he didn’t like having that kind of power.
He shook his head emphatically. “No.”
“Do you really not want to stay here? Be honest. If you changed your mind, I won’t be mad. We can take all your stuff back and just pretend it didn’t happen. Or whatever you want.”
“No! Please, no.”
“It’s just a question, rook, not a threat. No way are you leaving here unless you want to.”
“I don’t want to. It’s not about that. It’s nothing to do with you. It’s just my parents,” he finally muttered. “It’s just stupid.”
“What happened?”
“They’re not coming anymore. My dad thinks he can turn his season around with some new kid that moved there, and I’m not even playing every day, so… priorities. You know. Coaches have those.”
Juno frowned, wincing. “I’m sorry, rook. That sucks.”
He shrugged, feeling venom leaching out of him instead of relief. This wasn’t working. It wasn’t helping. “I don’t care.”
“You obviously do.”
“I obviously don’t give a fuck. I didn’t really want him coming anyway, so I got what I wanted.”
“Okay, yeah. Still… that probably stings a little.”
“Why would it? He’s off my back now. Why would I even care?”
“Because it’s a fucked up thing for someone to do. Jerk you around like that. Make you feel like you got replaced.”
“I don’t feel like that! Jesus, shut up. I don’t see your parents at any games.”
“No. You won’t. But they don’t tell me they’re coming and then bail on me either.”
“Whatever.”
“Look, I know it hurts you when people don’t pay attention to you. I know you don’t like being ignored.”
“Well, who the fuck likes being ignored?”
“Kyle, stop it. Don’t fucking yell at me. I’m being nice to you.”
“No, you’re not. You’re making me think about it, and I don’t want to think about it! I just wanted to go to the fucking track and not get bitched at!”
He flipped over onto his stomach before getting irritated and turning onto his side. Which wasn’t any better. There was no way to get comfortable. His skin was crawling and his stomach was churning and he fucking hated everyone. Hated Mackey for benching him. Hated his dad for jerking him around. Mostly hated himself for being a huge fucking asshole, as usual.
He felt the mattress dip as Juno moved into bed beside him, pulling him back against him, spreading his hand out over the center of his chest.
“Don’t,” he said. But he didn’t mean it.
“You be quiet a minute,” Juno whispered, pulling him closer. “I worry about you when you get this worked up.”
“I’m not worked up.”
Juno ignored him. “You get stuck on something and it’s like you can’t think anymore.”
“No, I don’t. No, it’s not.” Except it was exactly.
“Your heart’s beating so fast.”
“I know.” He could feel it, jerking in his chest, like he’d never even caught his breath.
“You gotta calm down. Shh. Just relax.”
�
��How am I supposed to relax? This is why I’m here, and I’m not even playing anymore. I should just quit.”
“For fuck’s sake, get your head on straight. You got benched a couple of days because you made a bad decision. It happens.”
“If I was that good, it wouldn’t matter. He wouldn’t bench me.”
“You really believe that, or you just want me to tell you how good you are?”
He couldn’t even tell if that was supposed to be a joke.
“My dad said if I was still as good as I was in high school, I’d be playing every day.”
“Well, then he’s a fucking asshole. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Mackey wouldn’t be playing you like he has from day one if you weren’t just as good as you know you are.”
Kyle shook his head. “I hate it here. I fuck everything up. I just want to play ball, and I’m such a dick no one will even let me. Now Mackey’s gonna think I’m a liar because they’re not gonna show up. He’s never gonna play me again.”
“That’s not gonna happen. He knows people are assholes sometimes. But you’re going off the deep end here. Just be still a minute.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”
Juno pulled him closer, kissing behind his ear, stroking his stomach. Kyle closed his eyes and started at his toes, cataloging everywhere their bodies met, absorbing his touch bit by bit as he let it soak into him, slowing his pulse until he could finally breathe again.
“You’re having a rough day,” Juno said after a while.
“No shit.”
“But you don’t get to be irresponsible just because you’re having a rough day.”
He felt the blush curving up his cheekbones, over his ears and down his neck.
“What do you mean?”
“I think you need some help clearing your head. And I think we both know the best way to do that. Don’t we?”
“I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do.”
He held his breath, waiting for Juno to say something, until he couldn’t stand it anymore. “You want to spank me?”