Focus on Me

by Megan Erickson

  I stared at the closed door for a minute, watching as he bent his head to fiddle with his seat belt.

  Then I walked around the back of my car, shaking my head and jingling my keys, thinking Riley might very well drive me out of my mind.

  Unless I kissed him first.

  ***

  Hey Landry,

  I’m sorry you got in trouble with Justin for ogling Colin’s picture. I told you he was hot! Tell Justin I apologize and I won’t send you any more cute Southern-boy porn. (Even though I totally still will.)

  So . . . he’s taking me to the Grand Canyon. I told him that’s where I was going, and even though it was out of his way, he agreed to take me. Crazy, huh? Turns out he failed out of college, and he’s going home to work for his parents’ barbecue restaurant in North Carolina. I don’t even know why I’m telling you all of this.

  Oh, and he named his Jeep. Like, a real name. Butch. Hilarious, right? Although you guys had a Winnebago named Sally, so I guess that’s normal to you.

  Anyway, I hope the Grand Canyon holds what I’m looking for. If not . . . well, I’m not sure I want to think about that.

  —R

  Chapter Three

  We drove for a couple hours before stopping for gas close to the Grand Canyon. Riley was adamant that he wanted to do that Skywalk thing on the West Rim. Walking over the canyon on a see-through floor sounded a little freaky to me, but hey, it was Ri’s trip and if he wanted to do it, then whatever.

  The gas station we stopped at had a little grocery mart attached to it. Riley was dozing in the passenger seat, so I ran inside to see if I could grab us something for lunch.

  I found a little container of yogurt with granola in a packet on top. I checked the labels and found something that said organic and no preservatives and a bunch of other shit that I thought Riley would like.

  I also grabbed him an apple and banana, as well as a turkey sandwich for myself.

  As I handed the cashier some cash, my phone rang. I checked the caller ID and smiled. “Hey, sweetheart.”

  “You on the road yet?” My sister sounded eager, like she wanted to teleport me home.

  “Yep, taking a detour or two, though.”

  She huffed out a breath, and I heard a creak in the background. I could see her flopping on her bed in her room, blowing her long blond hair out of her face. She never tied it back and her bangs were always in her eyes. Drove Mama nuts. Which was why I thought Jess did it. “What do you mean by detour?”

  I accepted the change from the cashier, nodded thanks, and then grabbed my bag. When I stepped out the door of the station, I slipped my sunglasses over my eyes. “Gonna see the Grand Canyon.”

  “Oooh, really?” Jess wanted to travel. And she probably would. She was wicked smart—unlike me—and had made the dean’s list every semester this past year when she was a freshman at East Carolina University. She wanted to be a news reporter on TV and shit like that.

  “Yeah, don’t tell Mama and don’t do this yourself, but a guy needed a ride, so I’m giving him one. He said he was hitching rides to the Grand Canyon, and I told him I’d take him there myself.”

  “Aw, that’s nice of you.”

  I shrugged, even though she couldn’t see me. “Whatever. I wanna see it, too.”

  I opened up the driver’s-side door and sat in the seat. Riley raised his head from the window where he’d been resting it and blinked at me. “Hold on a minute, Jess,” I said into the phone. I pulled Riley’s yogurt out of the bag. “Got this for you. Since they didn’t have it at the diner? Says it’s healthy and shit, low sugar and calories or whatever.” I dropped it in his lap, where he stared at it. I pulled out the fruit. “Got ya this, too. Now it doesn’t say it’s organic, but you didn’t mention you only eat organic. I dunno why I’m even bothering with it, ’cept you seem like you might like organic stuff.” I took a deep breath. “Anyway, thought you might like that, too. I got myself a sandwich. I can go back, though, and get you one of those if you want.” I squinted at him and he just stared at me, eyes wide. I lifted my sunglasses into my hair. “You okay, Catwalk?”

  He lowered his hand and gently picked up the yogurt. “This is perfect. Thank you.”

  “No problem.” I held the phone back up to my ear. “You there, Jess?”

  “Yep.”

  “So not sure when I’ll be home, okay? Just tell Mom and Dad I’m taking my time.”

  She sighed. “Okay, but I miss you. I hate working at the restaurant when you’re not there.” She was home for the summer from college now, which meant she had plenty of waitressing duties.

  I huffed. “Yeah, well once I’m home now, I’m home for good.”

  She paused. “It’s okay, Colin, you know?”

  I fingered a crack in the leather of the steering wheel. “I know.”

  “I just mean . . . not everyone is cut out for college, and that’s okay, and—”

  I gritted my teeth. “I know, Jess.”

  I knew she heard the irritation in my voice, but she didn’t back off. “There are so many other things you’re good at that aren’t studying and tests and stuff.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut and pinched the bridge of my nose. “Yep.”

  This time, she backed off. “Okay, well, drive safe and have fun. Take pictures for me.”

  “Will do. Take care and I’ll see you soon. Love ya.”

  “Love ya, too.”

  I hung up the phone and looked over at Riley. He was eating his yogurt with a little spoon. “Hey, where’d you find that? I forgot to get you one.”

  He gestured to the bottom of the cup. “It comes with one on the bottom there. You just snap it together.”

  “Huh, that’s pretty nifty.”

  He smiled, like I amused him. “Who . . . who was that on the phone?”

  I glanced at it in my lap. “Oh, that was my sister.”

  “Younger?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You have any other siblings?”

  I shook my head.

  He focused back on his cup.

  “You?” I asked.

  “Me what?”

  “Do you have any siblings?”

  He swallowed and dropped his empty cup into a bag I kept in the Jeep for trash. “Nope, just me.”

  “How was that?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Did you like growing up without any siblings?”

  He stared at me for a minute. “No.”

  “No?”

  “No.”

  He didn’t elaborate. And so I didn’t ask questions. I grabbed my sandwich, unwrapped it, and we took off down the road toward the Grand Canyon.

  ***

  My boots made an odd sound on the Skywalk. I watched them as I raised my knees up, forward, then down onto the clear glass floor, from which I could see the bottom of the Grand Canyon two thousand feet below.

  My legs shook, and my heart felt like it was beating in my mouth. I wiped my forehead with the sleeve of my shirt and breathed in through my nose, out through my mouth.

  This whole thing was weird and freaky. But the bridge was a little crowded, and Riley seemed to like it, so I shut my mouth and fought against my flight instinct. Still, I gazed longingly at the solid ground at the edge of the Grand Canyon. According to the shuttle driver, the U-shaped Skywalk jutted out from the rim of the Grand Canyon seventy feet at its farthest point. Which was where we were.

  Riley leaned on the railing and looked below. I followed his gaze, spying the Colorado River in the distance.

  I walked over next to him and folded my forearms on the railing, resting my forehead on them and closing my eyes. Then I prayed my legs would stop shaking.

  When I looked up, Riley was watching me with amusement.

  “What’s that look for?”

  “You don’t like this, do you?”

  I shrugged.

  He laughed. “Liar. Your face is white and you’re sweating like crazy.”

  I wiped my
forehead again. “Hot as hell out here. This is Arizona, ya know.”

  “Right . . .” He let his voice trail off and then focused back on the canyon in front of us. I told myself to chill and let my gaze roam the area. I’d seen pictures of the Grand Canyon, but to actually be here in this huge natural area was a head trip. I was seeing it with my own eyes, but could barely grasp the actual freaking size of the canyon.

  A helicopter circled overhead, one of the tours, and I looked up, shielding my eyes as it flew past.

  “Have you ever seen Garden State?” Riley asked.

  I dropped my hand back to the railing. “Garden State?”

  “Yeah, it’s a movie.”

  I shook my head, “No.”

  He swallowed and looked back at the canyon as he spoke. “Well, the main character is depressed, and he’s been on drugs a lot of his life to deal with it. But then he stops taking them. He said he wants to feel, and he wasn’t sure he ever needed them in the first place.” He took a breath. “Anyway, there’s this scene where he and his friends visit an abandoned quarry. He climbs on top of this old construction vehicle in the pouring rain on the edge of the quarry and yells down into it. Just yells into the infinite abyss, as he calls it. And he’s happy because he’s feeling that moment, you know?”

  Riley looked at me, his eyes wide. I didn’t know what he wanted me to say. Because that sounded kind of weird, for a guy to stand and yell into a hole. Maybe he just wanted to hear his voice echo. Some guys liked to hear themselves talk. So all I did was nod.

  In response, Riley stepped closer. When he spoke again, his voice was lower, softer. “Standing here like this, how does it make you feel?”

  I licked my lips and broke Riley’s gaze to look at the other people walking the bridge. Some were holding hands and talking. Others were pointing at the canyon below. Then I looked back out, staring at the tan rocks of the canyon walls. The best way to describe all of this was beautiful, in the way the sun baked the ground, the way the gentle breeze ruffled my sweat-dampened hair. The way plants shoved their way through cracks in the rock to reach the sun and thrive.

  I wasn’t so good at this, talking about how I felt and shit. But he’d asked me, so I thought about how to answer as honestly as I could. “I guess . . . I guess I feel pretty small. And I feel pretty lucky that I’m here. I’m alive and the sun is shining, and I get to see one of the greatest sites in the world.”

  I winced a little, wondering if that all sounded stupid.

  Riley rolled his lips between his teeth, and his eyes lowered until he stared at his hands folded on the railing. “That’s . . . that’s good, Colin.”

  So I guessed I’d done all right. “How, uh, does it make you feel?”

  Riley’s eyes fell closed slowly. “About the same,” he whispered. But there was something in his voice, something that made me scratch my head, but also made me think he was lying a little.

  “You happy you got to see this?” I waved a hand out into the infinite abyss.

  “Yeah,” he whispered again. But he didn’t look happy. And his eyes looked wet.

  He blinked and turned away, and when he faced me again, some cool mask had slipped over his face. His eyes looked a little too bright, his smile forced. “Thanks a lot for bringing me.”

  “You okay?” Why I was getting involved in his personal business when this was probably the last time I’d see him was beyond me.

  “Yep. Ready to go?”

  I let it go and nodded, then followed him as we made our way back to the rim.

  After a silent shuttle ride back to the parking lot, I leaned against the back bumper of Butch, needing to catch my breath and enjoy my feet on solid ground.

  Riley had come back into himself a little since his weird reaction on the Skywalk. He hadn’t quite smiled yet, but he seemed more at ease.

  Jess always said I had the caretaker gene. I wasn’t sure what that meant, since I thought I was just being a big brother. But she said I liked to take care of people. I liked to make them happy. And yeah, I guess I did. Because happy people made me happy. Which in turn seemed a little self-serving, like folks who donated money just for the back pats and attention. But Jess said it wasn’t the same thing.

  I’d been taking care of Jess since she was born, just three years after me. My parents were great, but they were busy starting up the restaurant. So Jess was my responsibility and I loved it. Kept me out of trouble, probably. But really, it was in my blood to take care of her. I wanted to.

  And as I watched Riley gather himself before my eyes, straightening his shirt and running fingers through his thick hair, I realized that I hadn’t felt that caretaker gene kick in lately. Not with anyone other than Jess.

  But it was kicking in now. Full force, like a kick in the ass. For him.

  So I was at a crossroads here. I could drop him off somewhere, at a truck stop or bus station, and let him go on his way. But he seemed lost or at loose ends. It bugged me. I wanted to tie all his little knots until he was safe and secure.

  What a curse this gene was.

  So I could either wipe my hands and mosey on my way, get home to North Carolina and start working up a storm, or I could stick with Riley. Take him where he needed to go next and see if I could infuse a little bit of solid into whatever was making him drift.

  I sounded like a damn poet.

  “Where’re ya headed to next, Catwalk?” I asked.

  He turned at my voice, his boots kicking up a little bit of dirt. He frowned slightly, reached into his back pocket, and pulled out that crumpled piece of paper. His eyes scanned it, and then he folded it back up and slipped it into his pocket. He chewed the inside of his cheek. “I’m not sure.”

  I cocked my head. “Where’s your final destination?”

  For some odd reason, he flinched at those words. He recovered and said, “I, uh, want to see the Atlantic Ocean.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Yeah?”

  That got a small smile out of him. “Yeah.”

  I pinched my shirt and fanned my sweaty chest. “Well then, you’re in luck. North Carolina happens to meet right up with the Atlantic Ocean, and that’s where I’m heading.”

  “Oh no, I couldn’t—”

  “So looks like you got a ride to that ocean, then.”

  I straightened off from the bumper and wiped my hands. Decision made. I had a travel buddy. Who happened to star in my jerk-off fantasies, but that was information I didn’t plan to disclose.

  “Colin, you don’t—”

  “Decision has been made, Catwalk. Now get in Butch.”

  “But—”

  “No buts.” I waved a hand toward the passenger door. “And if you got more items on that bucket list of yours on the way, we’ll scratch those off.”

  He put his hands on his hips. “How do you know it’s a bucket list?”

  I scratched my temple. “Lucky guess?”

  He harrumphed under his breath, and as he walked by me, he mumbled something about mind reading. I chuckled as I walked to the driver’s seat.

  ***

  Hey Landry,

  Nothing.

  I stood on that stupid fucking Skywalk and looked at the stupid fucking Grand Canyon and I. Felt. Nothing.

  I hate this. I hate all of this.

  Colin offered to take me the rest of the way across the country so I could see the Atlantic Ocean.

  And I said yes. Even though I shouldn’t have done it. Because he’s light and he doesn’t deserve all the dark that’s in my head. I’m like a plant, though, and no matter what, I find myself leaning toward his light.

  I wonder if there’s ever an end to the hurt.

  —R

  Chapter Four

  I wanted a burger. And a beer. Onion rings would be cool, too. And I wouldn’t turn down some bangin’ mozzarella sticks.

  Usually I stopped at fast food on my drives home, filling up the passenger seat with crumpled bags and empty cups until I could barely open the door without
it all spilling out.

  But I had a buddy now, even if he was a quiet one. And so I wanted to sit down and actually eat something that was biodegradable, unlike some fast food.

  I pointed to a sign at a bar advertising food and cheep bear through the windshield, and Riley nodded.

  I pulled into the parking lot and looked around. I spotted a motel a couple blocks down the highway. “We can stay there when we’re done here. That all right?”

  Riley looked at the motel sign I pointed at. “Sure.”

  “You hungry?” I asked as I kicked up the gravel on the way to the door of the restaurant.

  He shrugged.

  It was close to eight at night, so a little after the dinner rush. It was also a Tuesday, so it wasn’t too crowded. There was a pool table in the back with a man and woman playing, and a couple of guys on stools at the bar who looked to be regulars. The tables scattered on the floor were only about a quarter full.

  A waitress told us to pick a table, so I chose one in the far back, away from the blaring jukebox but near the bathrooms.

  The waitress dropped menus on our table and asked us if we wanted drinks. I ordered an MGD and after a slight hesitation, Riley ordered a Miller Lite.

  She was back in a couple of minutes with our cold bottles, and then we ordered our food. I wasn’t surprised Riley ordered a salad. I was surprised this place even served salads.

  I tapped my fingers on the neck of my bottle. “So tell me where you’re from.”

  He took a sip of his beer and I watched his Adam’s apple bob. He set it back on the table. “West Virginia.”

  I cocked my head. “You don’t have much of an accent.”

  “My parents weren’t from there, so they didn’t have one. And what little I got growing up there, I dropped pretty quickly in California. No one wants to hire a gay boy with a hick accent.” As if he realized what he just said, his eyes went wide and he clapped a hand over his mouth.

  But I was about as surprised as him. My mouth dropped open and my hand almost knocked my beer on the floor. “You’re gay?”

  He glanced around the bar, like any minute some homophobes were going to come out of the woodwork to hurl slurs at him. “Shit,” he whispered, closing his eyes and hanging his head. He took a deep breath and raised it then, open eyes on me, his teeth gritted. “If that makes you not want to offer me a ride anymore, that’s fine. Please just tell me now.”