Sever

by Jesse Grey

  “Yeah, yeah.” Bridge waved her off. “Go find your boyfriend while I find a drink.”

  As Bridge drifted toward the massive bar in the center of the huge, high ceiling room, Faith stormed her way over to Straton as the guy he gave his last drink to slapped his tight denim covered pos-terior.

  “Straton.”

  He turned around, smiling from the huge tip the customer had just given him, to see a slightly flustered Faith before him.

  “Faith? What are you doing here?”

  “Who’s this, handsome? Your sister?” The very drunk, very handsy tipper said, his words shaky at best.

  “No,” Straton said, putting on another smile for the guy and his friends. “This is my girlfriend.”

  “Pity,” One of the guys’ friends sighed, running a hand through his bleached platinum blond hair. “The sexiest guys always seem to be straight anymore.”

  “Can we talk for a minute?” She whispered to him.

  “Sure.” Straton set the tray in his hands down and gave the group of guys a perfect half-smile. “Be back in a bit, fellas.”

  They all groaned in annoyance, but Faith finally got Straton alone in the back room of the club. Once Straton closed the door behind them, his friendly facade was replaced by one of worry.

  “Faith, are you alright? You look pretty upset.”

  “I know you’re working and I haven’t responded to your texts and calls this weekend. I’ll explain all of that later, after you explain something to me.”

  Confusion changed Straton’s expression completely. “Okay, I’m not sure where this is going, but obviously I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

  “Good.” Faith breathed harshly. “I want to know why you didn’t tell me.”

  “About what?”

  “About Sumner.”

  His eyes quickly clouded. “What are you talking about?”

  “No games, Straton. I’m jumping through enough hoops at home and I really don’t need them from you.”

  “I mean, I heard about the sighting,” Straton scoffed, putting his hands on his hips. “That’s why I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all week. I’ve been worried about you and Alex—”

  “I know that you were friends with Sumner.”

  Without missing a beat, Straton was engulfed with fury. “Faith, have you lost your mind!? You know that I only know Sumner from the news. I’ve never asked you or Alex about it because I know how hard that must have been for you and all your friends.”

  Regret began to bubble in her veins, but it was quickly replaced by determination. “Willa told me—”

  “Enough!” Straton shrieked. “All I have ever been is supportive and there for you. And now you’re accusing me of, what exactly?”

  “You knew Sumner. Before he attacked my brother and his friends.”

  “Why are you with me if you don’t trust me? I don’t know why you think I know Sumner, but I don’t. And I don’t want to be with you if you don’t believe that.”

  “Straton—”

  “Go home, Faith. I have to work.”

  Straton walked back out into the throes of the club. Faith fol-lowed him, but he must have disappeared into the dancing crowds of people.

  “Straton!” She tried to call to him, but he was gone.

  Back at the bar, Bridge was enjoying his third tequila shot, al-ready feeling the wonderful warmth of the alcohol. Now that he had some eighty-proof courage coursing through him, he supposed he could dance and possibly make out with someone. But just as he was about to get up from the bar, Ben sloppily leaned against the bar right beside him, whom had apparently been enjoying his own night out.

  “Breaking curfew,” Ben tsked. “Willa told me about it. Probably not a good idea going against it.”

  Bridge, though not exactly sober himself, could still make out the stinging aroma of alcohol on Ben’s breath.

  “Jesus, Ben. Have you been chugging gasoline?”

  “Letting off stream. Isn’t that why you’re here?”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  Ben snaked an arm around Bridge’s waist, which the latter nor-mally would have protested, but the alcohol in him was making him really enjoy the human contact.

  “Ben—”

  “Do you know how hard it’s been for me this weekend?” Ben slurred. “You’re at my girlfriend’s house for fuck sake.”

  “I thought it was fiancé?” Bridge burped, trying to hold down his liquor. “It wasn’t my idea. I can’t help it that Paige lives next door to the Llewellyns. Didn’t mean to interrupt your precious time with her.”

  “Bridge,” Ben smirked. “It hasn’t been hard because of Paige.” His hand on Bridge’s waist tightened. “It’s been hard because of you.” he sniffed. “I’ve missed you. You’ve been so close but with Paige...I couldn’t come over.”

  “Ben, stop.” Bridge’s head was fluttering like butterfly wings. He couldn’t comprehend what was coming out of Ben’s mouth. What was Ben saying? That he’d missed him? No, he had to have heard wrong. Even if Ben had said that, it was just the liquor talking.

  “Ben,” he said again. “No, we—”

  Ben’s lips were on his and he forgot everything else. Nothing but their kiss even registered in Bridge’s head. Their kiss intensified and before he could tell what was happening, they were in the bathroom of the club, kissing in between tearing each other’s clothes off of their bodies. It wasn’t until Bridge starting pulling Ben’s pants down and the bathroom door swung open that they both froze in place and took in their surroundings.

  “Bridge, are you in—”

  Faith burst in and stopped mid-question to see a shirtless Bridge and Ben, the latter of which had his khakis around his ankles, his bare posterior facing her.

  “Oh, Jesus.” Faith shrieked.

  “I’m not gay.” Ben testified, the alcohol still slightly slurring his speech.

  “Shut up, Ben.” Bridge said, buttoning his pants and grabbing his discarded t-shirt and pulling it over his toned torso while Ben started pulling his pants up, searching around for his polo shirt.

  “I’ll, uh, wait for you out here.” Faith ran out of the bathroom as fast as she could.

  Once she was gone, Ben somehow found the valor to speak. “Bridge, what does this mean?”

  He ignored Ben as he started buttoning his favorite Ralph Lauren powder blue shirt.

  “She saw us. What does this mean?”

  “Shut up!” Bridge blurted. “This was a mistake.” He watched as Ben finished dressing. “Do you even remember what you told me at the bar?”

  “Of course I do.” Ben reached for Bridge’s hand. He started to re-coil, but felt too vulnerable to pull away, Ben’s fingers skimming the younger man’s palm. “I meant it. I just...I don’t know what this means or what to do.”

  “You still say you’re not gay.”

  “Because I’m not. Or maybe I am. I just, I don’t know what to call it or if it even needs to be called anything. I just know that I haven’t been able to focus on anything but you since the night we first met at that party.”

  “Stop.” Bridge’s head finally began to clear, fog lifting from his senses. “Ben, you know that I like you, but you’re engaged. To a woman.”

  “Bridge,”

  “It’s not right. I just…I’m sorry, but I can’t do this.”

  Bridge left Ben in the bathroom before he could call after him or stop him from leaving. Without looking back, he made his way to-ward the entrance. He found Faith right at the curtains that obscured the entry hallway. Just as he approached Faith, his cell started buzz-ing in his jeans pocket. A picture of Mercer hugging him and placing a kiss on his cheek enveloped his screen. Bridge sent Mercer’s call to voicemail as Faith looked him up and down.

  “Please don’t.” he said, dismissing her glance.

  “I almost forgot how entertaining you guys are. Alex is going to love this.”

  Pushing past the curtains, Bridge led them down the dim
ly lit hallway. “You can’t tell Alex. You can’t tell anyone.”

  “Because?”

  “Because that guy you saw me with is getting married to the school’s new guidance counselor?” He ended with a question, winc-ing as he waited for her reaction.

  “Bridge!”

  “I know, I know. We hooked up before, before I knew. To-night…tonight was just the tequila. It’s over.” he paused, telling him-self to truly believe what he was reciting. “What about you? How’d the meet up with the boyfriend go?”

  Sighing, she shook her head. “Nothing like your bathroom esca-pade. I think we might be over too.”

  Bridge made a sad face, grabbing her hand. “I’m sorry, Faith.”

  “I’ll deal with it another night,” She shrugged it off. “Let’s just get home. Before we’re both on lockdown until we’re fifty.”

  Mercer had tried calling Bridge over and over, but he wouldn’t answer. The next day at school, he was determined to talk to his friends. Ever since his talk with Kirby yesterday, he’d been unable to stop his mind from thinking back to when his friends and Sumner had snuck into Arclan days before its grand opening. And he really needed to talk to his friends about it.

  He made his way to the calculus class that he shared with his friends when he almost ran right into Kirby.

  “Hey.” he smiled.

  “Hey.” she nodded, finishing a text on her iPhone. “Sorry. My mom is driving me crazy about trying to make some new friends.” When Mercer looked a little hurt, Kirby went on. “No offense. It’s just because she’s really pressuring me with this whole lockdown thing.”

  “Right,” Mercer forced an additional smile, feeling completely unsure as to whether he’d ever be able to really be friends with Kirby after the lockdown fiasco ended. The bell blared loudly around them to help his thoughts wisp into the void. “I guess we should get to class. Good luck, uh, with the friend hunt.”

  Smiling weakly, Kirby nodded once more. “Thanks. Later.”

  “Bye.”

  Kirby left, only to reveal Mercer’s friends in her wake, smug looks on all of their faces.

  “When’s the wedding?” Abram laughed.

  “Shut up.” Mercer chuckled as the four of them entered Mr. Ar-gus’ class, taking four empty seats in the back of the classroom.

  Mr. Argus stood up from his desk, assumingly to begin the days’ lesson, when another teacher asked to speak with him outside for a minute. He told them to talk quietly, stepping outside and leaving the class to their own conversations.

  “Hey,” Mercer started, leaning closer to his friends. “We have to break curfew tonight.”

  “What? Why?” Alex questioned.

  “Do you guys remember the night we snuck into Arclan?”

  “Obviously.” Bridge stated.

  “I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. I wanna run something by you guys and I’d rather do it without the risk of being overheard.”

  “Breaking curfew twice in one week,” Bridge laughed lightly, be-grudgingly tossing around the self-implication. “Keep it up, Mathison.”

  “You’ve already snuck out?”

  “Mercer, if you were stuck staying with Paige, you’d have broken curfew already too.”

  “Is it really important enough to risk getting caught?” Alex raised an eyebrow.

  “Definitely. We have to meet tonight.”

  “Where?” Abram scoffed.

  Mercer stirred. “Well, I was thinking we could meet up at the RV.”

  He saw recognition flaring in their irises, which turned into the three of them looking to Abram. “What do you think?”

  Abram shrugged at Bridge’s questioning comment. “We’re al-ready breaking curfew. We might as well add trespassing to the night’s offenses.”

  “I guess we’re revolting then.” Alex quipped.

  Mercer smiled, delighted. “Meet at the RV at midnight.”

  Mr. Argus re-entered the classroom, bringing the class to his at-tention as the four friends waited for the darkness of the setting sun so they could collectively breach their lockdown.

  The hours seemed to lag and stutter by for all of them. They hadn’t spoken to one another after their calculus class. They all had bid their time at their respective homes, waiting as the sky changed from burnt auburn to midnight blue, a hue that seemed to scream danger. Only fitting, since they’d all be breaking curfew in the middle of the night.

  Alex had just finished showering in preparation of their late night meet up, staring in the bathroom mirror and smiling at the muscular chest he had worked so hard to achieve after his top surgery, his mind wandering to his friends. It was funny. When his friends first found out about him, he wanted to fall off the face of the Earth so he wouldn’t have to deal with everything. But now, with the lockdown in effect, all he wanted was to talk to them, explain all he had gone through during his transition. It didn’t help that Bridge was now right next door.

  The chiming of his phone from his adjoining bedroom brought him from the depths of his thoughts as he exited the bathroom and entered his bedroom, grabbing a nearby shirt and pulling it over his head. As he quickly pulled on the rest of his clothes, he grabbed his phone from its spot on the bed. It was a text from Abram saying he was at the basement door.

  A little confused, Alex pulled on his shoes and quietly made his way through the dark Llewellyn house until he found his way in the basement, ambling over to the door, and opening it to see Abram’s smiling face.

  “We should get going.” Abram suggested.

  Alex stepped outside, closing the door carefully behind him. “What are you doing here? I thought the plan was to meet at the RV?” he whispered.

  “It is, but I figured your mom was practically tracking your car’s whereabouts.”

  Alex scoffed. “Not practically. Actually.” He shook his head. “I just planned on walking to the bus station a couple blocks away.”

  “No need. I’ve got Willa’s car parked on the next street over.”

  Smirking, Alex started walking away from his house with his ex-boyfriend. “She doesn’t mind?”

  “She doesn’t know.” Abram smiled a half-smile. “She’s knocked out, just like Mom and Dad.”

  “Is Bridge meeting us?” Alex silently slid into stride next to Abram as they made their way down his street.

  Abram shook his head. “He’s already out apparently. Maybe he’ll ride with Mercer or take the bus.”

  The rest of their brief walk was silent. Willa’s car was parked on a side street right under a tree, shrouded in shadows.

  “Let’s get this over with,” Alex said as they got into the car. “My parents will kill me if they find out I snuck out.”

  “All of us are risking a lot.” Abram admitted. “Whatever Mercer has to tell us, it better be worth it.”

  Abram started the car and turned off the street as he messed with the radio, not wanting to inhibit silence among the two of them as they drove to the RV like he had on the way to pick Alex up. The CD in Willa’s car started to pick up where it had left off and Alex’s voice came blaring from the radio from before his transition.

  “That was ‘Pour Some Sugar On Me’ by Def Leppard, probably Abe’s favorite.”

  “Oh…my God,” Alex laughed as he heard his younger self do the same. “Is this our CD?”

  Younger Abram answered before the one sitting beside him could. “Maybe it is my favorite, but the next one is yours, Liss.”

  Abram looked just as stunned as Alex as their younger selves droned on in the background, their adolescent voices coming out of the car’s speakers with guided ease. “I guess Willa has been listening to it.”

  “God, I can’t believe we used to pretend to be radio hosts, let alone record ourselves.” Alex chuckled.

  “Hey, our mutual love of eighties music should be celebrated.” Abram smiled.

  “This was before Sumner.” Alex’s eyes became suddenly distant. “Before everything changed.”

&
nbsp; “Forget about that,” Abram pleaded, then smiled at Alex as he turned down another street. “Do you remember what song is coming up?”

  Alex was about to say that he couldn’t ever forget what was about to come out of the speakers when the song started, causing him to smile as he recognized the opening bars of ‘Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now’ by Starship.

  Abram began singing the male lead of the first verse, eyeing Alex occasionally, probably because years ago Abram used to sing the male lead and Alex would sing the female lead, followed by them singing the chorus together.

  He kept eyeing Alex further as the female lead closed in on them. Finally, Abram finished his part and then looked to Alex to continue the song. Laughing, Alex began singing his usual part of the song, causing Abram to head bang and smile in response to Alex’s partici-pation.

  Once they got to the chorus, they both started belting out the words, singing loudly and smiling at each other. They sang the rest of the song with ease, all while they continued their drive until they reached the parking lot of Westbrooke Storage Lot.

  As another eighties love ballad ended, Abram turned down the volume on the radio. Alex was laughing from how into the music they had just gotten, Abram mirroring his infectious hysterics.

  “When was the last time we sang eighties music together?” Abram asked, winding down his cackling.

  “Practically forever.” Alex stated. “I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed it,” Staring into Abram’s gorgeous cerulean orbs, Alex’s mind flashed to earlier times, times without police interrogations and so-cial lockdowns. The memories swelled in his heart, stirring a deep aching within him. “Honestly, there’s a lot of things I didn’t realize I’d missed.”

  Abram gave him that heartwarming half-smile that used to make Alex’s leap on a daily basis, one that he just so happened to experi-ence right then and there for the first time in months. They inched closer together on impulse, Alex almost expecting them to kiss when there was a loud knock on Abram’s window, causing both of them to jump at the abrupt interruption. Luckily it was only Bridge trying to get their attention.