Aaron was shocked by June’s confession of course, but what surprised him more than anything was how much he didn’t feel differently about their relationship. New and fragile as it was, he still saw June in the same light as before. Wanted him with the same quiet heartache that convinced him this was more than a crush.
It was that same heartache suspending him in a state of denial as he listened to June’s story. Between the lingering hiccups and shallow breaths, Aaron listened. Absorbed every word as June gained control of himself again. He explained his reasons for not taking medicine and not following up with his doctors. His anticipation of death and the steps he took to learn what loving life really meant. He spoke of bad times, but also good times. Aaron learned more about June now than he had in all their time together before. And what once felt like an ocean of secrets suddenly felt like a puddle. In a way, it was the break he’d been waiting for.
Aaron knew people couldn’t paint colors of pain like June did; not without having actually suffered them. But the whole thing still felt like an act of surrealism. A dream.
Maybe it was denial. That was a real and prevalent stage of grieving, right? Maybe Aaron had gotten over the shock part quickly and had moved on to lying to himself. Maybe it was easier to believe he would wake up from this situation and life would continue as it was, than to stare it down and face it.
He looked at June and wondered if it were possible to grieve the loss of someone before they died, or if that was the very definition of what it meant to be in love. Did his parents think about each other like that? Did they lay awake at night caught up in their feelings and mind, petrified of being alone and yet so disturbingly in love it didn’t matter? Was it worth the risk?
Why did people fall in love in the first place?
Aaron didn’t have the answers, but he had June. And June was enough. Had and would always be enough.
At some point between the tears drying and the sun rising, June pressed his forehead into Aaron’s chest and breathed in the smell of him like he missed it. A hand curled into a loose fist between them spread out flat against his side, gripped him there carefully.
“I don’t understand you at all,” June whispered. “Why aren’t you mad?”
Aaron ran a hand through his ink black hair and grazed the side of his face. Curled a finger under his chin and tilted it up to look him in the eyes. He breathed, wondering how in the world he could express the level of emotions coursing through him.
“I-I don’t know.”
June let out a sad, shaky laugh. The whites of his eyes were rimmed with red, and it made his irises a hot, Caribbean blue.
“I hate you.” He shifted closer and hid his face again. The weakness in his voice made Aaron want to protect him. “Where did you even come from? S-Stupid, boy.”
Aaron sighed.
“Tell me what you’re thinking.”
He hesitated, unsure of where to start. Normally, it was him prompting June to be more open, not the other way around. It wasn’t as if his thoughts were confusing or tangled either. They were just foggy. Distant. Maybe he wasn’t ready to talk.
He rubbed June’s back in long, soft movements. Spoke slowly but surely.
“I think I need more time to process all this.”
June tried to pull away, but Aaron hugged him closer.
“You don’t have to leave. I don’t want you to leave.”
He squirmed harder, getting an elbow under him and grunting. “Aaron, I need to go get some air.”
There was a mild frustration in June’s tone that Aaron didn’t understand. If he wanted Aaron to be truthful then Aaron needed a chance to get himself together, sure...but he could do it later. This painfully early in the morning was not the time to be organizing thoughts anyway. He wanted to sleep on it. Wanted to hold June close and absorb whatever nightmares might plague his mind.
June managed to get away from him and sat on the edge of the bed, looking tired. He pressed both his palms into his eye sockets and rubbed them for a few seconds. Took a huge breath and let it out slowly, then returned his gaze to Aaron looking a little gentler.
“I’m just gonna go for a walk.”
“June…”
“I think I need some space too.”
“I said I needed time to think not space—”
June was already walking toward the bathroom. His shoulders slumped down pitifully. Aaron’s arms felt empty, and he was positive; this was not the time to be distant with each other. But how could he stop June? If there was anything he’d ever learned, it was that there was no point in pushing him when he wanted to get away.
June was better at running from his problems than even Aaron was; which was both impressive and frightening.
Several minutes passed until June came back wearing the same clothes he’d worn several hours ago.
“I’ll be back later,” June said under his breath, so soft Aaron barely heard him.
Without June’s presence in the cabin, Aaron felt utterly alone, and the creeping, overwhelming truth of the situation hit him like a ton of bricks. He felt the bubble of emotion in his throat so potent it burned. His heart began to drum louder in his chest. Fingers curling and uncurling into the pillowcase.
He’d laid there for hours calm and collected and rational. Perhaps only because he’d needed to be strong for June. They couldn’t both be a wreck at the same time, right?
Aaron had never felt panic sneak up on him so quickly before—and that was saying something considering all it took was a flip of a light switch. But without June there to ground him, it popped and sizzled like a livewire. Electricity and smoke filled his chest, engulfing him and pinning him there with heavy, hot pressure.
He knew this feeling well. Knew it would come and go only to return another day. He could wait it out. He always did. Normally though, caught up in this moment, he would practice his breathing and tether himself to some lifeless object, so when the vertigo hit him, he would stay relatively in control. He’d fight it hard, tooth and nail if he had to. Normally he’d chant to himself and break out in a cold sweat from the effort it took to push back against the roar of fear.
This time, if given a choice, he’d take the hyperventilating, shaking and ringing in his ears over losing June any day.
Aaron closed his eyes, grit his teeth together hard and trembled violently into the sheets.
According to the clock on the nightstand, the panic attack lasted forty-seven minutes. It was the longest one Aaron had ever experienced and had nothing to do with the dark.
June slowly climbed to the top of the hill overlooking the lake, flashlight swinging back and forth in his hand and doing little to light his path. He felt miserable. His head pounded from crying for so long, and his stomach was in a knot over the reaction Aaron had given him. Nothing made sense.
He hadn’t told a lot of people about his illness, just close friends and family, but it was a mystery as to how Aaron came away from it the way he did. Comforting June and rubbing his back and letting him weep all over the place. It was irrational. June had been secretive. He’d been unfair and dragged Aaron along, knowing full well the feelings developing. He’d been selfish and stupid.
It wasn’t fair that Aaron had been so decent. He was going to burn out on that shit if he kept it up for too long. The way he’d listened intently and waited all night patiently for June to explain himself. Never once stopping him to demand an answer or even question his motives. It was cruel. He’d been level-headed and calm and worst of all, understanding. June didn’t deserve it. He would have fared far better, had Aaron screamed and yelled at him instead. Then at least the guilt would have a way to escape, rather than festering an open wound in his chest.
They could have broken off their relationship tonight. It would have been easier now, while it was still just a seed underground without roots. June could have gone home, and Aaron could have gone back to Portland, and they could have vowed never to speak again.
At least
June could have protected Aaron that way. Sure, it would have hurt, but later on, it would be easier. Aaron would only remember June as the boy he fooled around with one summer that broke his heart. Not the intense, thunderstorm relationship they had. Not the way they kissed or the way they touched or the way their hearts longed for each other; so young and so feverish it made all their hairs stand on end. Powerful. Real. Raw.
If cancer weren’t June’s end all, then Aaron Valentine sure as hell would be. And June wasn’t sure which one was more warranted. He wasn’t sure which one he’d choose if given a chance either.
He sat at the top of the hill watching the moonlight flicker across the blackness of the lake; so lost in his thoughts and his turmoil that a cougar could sneak up and maul him and he probably wouldn’t feel it. He listened to the crickets and the distant sound of foxes yelping. Smelled campfire smoke from somewhere nearby and watched the single lamppost down by the ice cream shop flicker. It reminded him of the very topic that had caused this disaster. The dark.
The first thing Aaron had said to June after he’d told him he was dying, was that he agreed to try and get over his fear of the dark. And while that seemed a very small, insignificant detail now that June had ruined everything, he found it a small comfort too. At the very least, if Aaron wanted to ride out the last of their summer together, June would have something to focus his energy on.
A single car drove up the hill from behind June and came to a startling stop at his side. He blinked at it, squinting as the passenger side window rolled down. A woman dressed in business clothes frowned at him, perhaps wondering if he was real or made of stone. Her stereo played Hanging by a Moment by Lifehouse, and she made no attempts to turn it down as she yelled out at him.
“Hey, kid! Are you okay?!”
June wondered what he must look like sitting cross-legged on a boulder with rumpled day-old clothes and bags under his eyes. Maybe like a renegade? She didn’t know the half of it.
“I’m fine,” he rasped, and he was sure she didn’t hear him. There was no volume left to his voice. He was exhausted. With a shake of his head and a wave of his hand, he dismissed her. Looked stubbornly away until she rolled up her window and continued down the other side of the hill.
He waited until her headlights vanished behind the pine trees before standing and making his way back to the cabin.
15
Calling All Angels
After fourteen hours of sleep and respective showers, Aaron approached June, car keys in hand and a mousy smile on his lips.
“Come on. Let’s go.”
June obeyed without a word, picking himself up off the couch and following Aaron out the side door leading to the carport. It was hot enough today that the metal of his seat belt burned Aaron’s fingers as he buckled in, and having the top down was only asking for more peeling skin. He cranked the A.C., turned the radio down low, and pulled out of the driveway carefully.
They hadn’t said more than a few words to each other since last night, and although Aaron had woken up with June’s back pressed against his chest and his arm slung around his waist, there was an obvious wall between them. He didn’t know if June was just upset with himself, with the situation, with him, or with all of the above, but it didn’t matter. Aaron was feeling all right now. Sleep had cleared his head of the irrational, heightened emotions and replaced them with softer, gentler thoughts. And while he was still completely, utterly heartbroken, he knew exactly what he had to do.
Never before in his life had the path seemed so clear.
June stared solemnly out the window as they drove; watching the blur of pines pass by and refusing to break the silence between them. Aaron wanted to reach out and take his hand, but he wasn’t sure if it would go over well. He didn’t know if June still needed space and wasn’t going to push for intimacy if it was only going to lead to rejection. He could wait.
The road down the mountain was comforting and familiar now. Aaron drove it with confidence; one hand on the wheel and the other fiddling with the car charger his cell phone should be plugged into (he’d forgotten it). He hummed along to the radio, bobbing his head and reading the signs for the town nestled in the valley. If he remembered correctly, there was an IHOP somewhere just off the exit.
June hadn’t bothered to eat breakfast today (probably because they woke up around two in the afternoon), but Aaron decided it wasn’t too late. June never missed breakfast. Aaron didn’t want him to give up and wallow, and since breakfast had been the first cordial thing they had ever done together, it seemed ironically perfect. If it could melt the tension between two scared teenagers forced to share a cabin in the woods together, then it could melt the tension here too. Aaron was positive.
He pulled off the highway and into the town swiftly, merged over three lanes of traffic and made a sharp right into a large shopping center parking lot. Curiosity must have gotten the best of June because he sat up straighter now. Eyes alert and confused as he took in the Old Navy, Chuck E. Cheese, and Borders sitting in a U-shape together. The IHOP stood alone, surrounded by few cars and litter blowing in the wind.
“Where are we going?” June finally asked.
“Breakfast.” Aaron pulled into a parking space and cut his engine. “My treat.”
June’s face looked pained as he unbuckled himself and reached for the door handle. He hesitated, mouth opening and closing like he was going to argue and then thought better of it. Aaron gave him a gentle scratch on the shoulder, and then let himself out knowing June would follow.
The restaurant wasn’t crowded and smelled like any usual diner. Maple syrup and fried eggs and whatever else they were flipping in the kitchen wafted through the air. It was a homey place despite the old chairs and chipped wooden tables. Aaron smiled politely as the waitress sat them far from anyone else. Perhaps she could see the need to talk simmering between them.
They were handed menus and glasses of tap water, then left quietly alone. Aaron sat beside June because he could give a shit what anyone thought about two boys on the same side of the booth. He angled himself toward June, elbow propped up on the table and chin in his hand, waiting.
“Why are we doing this?” June asked. Voice lifeless.
Aaron took a long sip of his water, wondering how to begin. Last night June had been rather explosive with his emotions, but today he looked like he was caging them in again.
Aaron remembered lying in bed alone with the panic attack rattling him from the inside out, and his expression fell. He wasn’t sure it was a good idea to tell June that happened in the first place, let alone start with the feelings that stemmed from it. He so clearly felt guilty about not telling Aaron his secret. No point in adding fuel to the fire.
Besides, the panic attack was exactly the kind of sign Aaron had needed. Bad as it was...
“I decided that I don’t care.”
June’s eyes turned to look up at him. They were duller now than Aaron had ever seen them before, and he was determined to get their spark back. He cleared his throat.
“I know this is hard… But June, you having cancer doesn’t make a difference about how I feel about you. I do wish you would have told me sooner, but I understand why you didn’t. I don’t blame you; actually. I get it.”
“You have to be at least a little mad at me.” June shook his head down at the table grains, a distressed laugh bubbling out of his throat. His hands balled into fists in his lap. “I never should have led you on.”
Aaron didn’t feel led on at all. Actually, he felt very led to. If June had been destined to find him this summer. To rip his sexuality straight out of his chest and to make him question his timid, sheltered life from before, then maybe Aaron was meant to help him in some way too. He didn’t think it was fair June had been doing so much to help him, and yet he had never given anything in return.
Aaron may not have the cure to cancer, but he had a lot of love to give. He’d drown June in it while he could and suffer consequences of his own decisio
ns later. He wasn’t going to give up being close to someone just because they were dying. He was going to make the best of it like June had made the best of him. He was going to be young and stupid and reckless for once in his life, no matter what the cost.
“Let me ask you a question.” Aaron tapped his fingernails against his glass and leaned in a little closer to June. Their thighs pressed together under the table. “If the situation were reversed, would you be mad at me?”
June shifted restlessly, shoulders sagging but mouth twisting in a tight grimace. Aaron hoped if he had the strength to argue he would just do it. That was more like the June he was used to—not this dilapidated gloomy shell.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Probably at first.”
“Would you want to leave?” Aaron went on. “Would you want to just...never be friends again and pretend this whole summer didn’t exist?”
“Wouldn’t that be easier?” June’s eyes flashed.
Aaron bit his lip and stared June down hard. Shook his head ever so slightly and let his hand fall from the table into the space between their laps. He gripped June’s wrist firmly.
“Maybe. But I’m sick of taking the easy way out, okay?”
“You’re gonna get your heart broken,” June insisted, trying to pull back.
Aaron held him tighter, voice low and serious. “I already have.”
Tension swirled between them so thick you could cut it with a knife, and Aaron was squeezing June tight enough to make his skin turn white under the pressure. A ripple of desperation spread through him, much as it always did when he tried to get his point across.
The Maple Effect Page 31