All We Can Do Is Wait(45)
“Uh, Jason” was all Jason managed, feeling naked and exposed in his stupid tank top and shorts. Kyle let out a strange little laugh, and Nate smiled, nodded again, slowly, with a dawning comprehension. “Cool, cool,” he said. “Well, I’ll let you two . . . get back to it. See you at work tomorrow, Kyle?” Kyle, stifling another laugh, said, “Yup, yeah, see you then. Bye, Nate!”
When they got to the car, Jason didn’t say anything for a minute, wanting Kyle to focus on getting the hell out of there before anyone else saw them. When he was sure they were safely enough away, he turned to Kyle.
“Why the fuck were you laughing?”
Kyle shot him a glance, annoyed, maybe a little alarmed. “It was so awkward! What did you want me to do?”
Jason’s face was hot, and he had a panicky tangle in his stomach. “Do you not understand that it is a big fucking deal that he saw us?”
Kyle didn’t answer for a moment, eyes trained on the road as the rain splattered down on the windshield, the barely functional wipers whining. “I guess I don’t understand that,” he finally said, coolly.
They drove in silence almost all the way to the beach parking lot where Kyle usually dropped Jason off, so Jason could walk the rest of the way home alone. But before he got out of the car, Jason had to make sure that Kyle treated this as seriously as it was.
“Will he say anything? Nate? Is he friends with my sister?”
They reached the beach, and Kyle pulled into the little lot. He put the car in park and sighed. “I don’t know, Jason. Why does it matter? Who really cares? The summer’s almost over. It’s not going to be so easy to sneak around once you’re back in Boston and I’m . . . wherever I am.”
Jason wasn’t sure why it mattered, but it did. It was important that he and Kyle remain a secret. Not because he was so scared to tell his family that he was gay, but maybe because announcing it to the world, that he and Kyle were a thing, that they were, officially as of a few hours ago, in love, would invite so much shit into this perfect, contained, protected thing that they had. The rest of the world would find a way to ruin it, Jason was convinced. To pick it apart and sabotage it and pull them away from each other. And the thought of that . . . Jason couldn’t think about that. He couldn’t think about the end of the summer either, so close now. And he realized he was furious at Kyle for not understanding that, for thinking this was all some kind of joke.
So he said something terrible, there in the empty beach lot, the rain pounding on the roof of Kyle’s shitty car. “Maybe it isn’t supposed to last past the summer,” he said quietly.
Kyle turned to him, looking like he’d been slapped. “What?” he asked, his voice small, any trace of flippancy or humor drained out of it.
“I don’t know, Kyle. Aren’t you supposed to be going to New York or something? And I have to get back to Boston. Maybe this is a sign.”
Kyle balked, angry tears welling up in his eyes. “We literally just said ‘I love you’ to each other, like, two hours ago.”
Jason sat silent, feeling dark and stubborn. “Maybe I didn’t mean it. Maybe I just said it because it’s what you wanted to hear. We’re too young to love each other. We don’t know what we’re talking about. We barely even know each other.”
Kyle let out a caustic laugh. “You’re such a fucking coward, Jason.”
This stung because, of course, it was true. He was. He was being cowardly and pathetic. But he couldn’t stop now; every mean thing Jason could possibly say was swarming in his head. “At least I’m not some loser who lies to everybody about a life he’s never gonna have.”
Kyle flinched, tears now streaking down his cheeks. “All right,” he said, starting the car again. “I’m done. Get out. You have to walk the rest of the way home, don’t you? So your mommy doesn’t see you with me?” Jason said nothing as he opened the car door and slammed it, walking across the lot toward home as Kyle maneuvered around him and sped off, tires kicking up gravel and then splashing down the road.
That was the last time he saw Kyle. For the rest of Jason’s life, that would be it. Two days of silence, and then, on Sunday night, the eve of the last day of summer, Alexa was on the phone, frantic, shrieking, saying Kyle’s name in between sobs.
And then what? Jason falling back, into the void of his life before, his life to come. His sister’s radioactive, repellent grief. She so clearly needed him to be there, to be present like he had been, but Jason found it impossible. He was already gone. The summer had ended and the cold had come early and he was sinking into it, far out from the shore, the glimmer of the sun dimming, everything watery and dark. It was so easy to just float away.
But not easy enough. Suddenly, Jason was pulled back to the hospital. Someone was saying his name. He turned around to see who it was and saw Morgan, eyeing him worriedly.
“Jason? Jason?”
He blinked, the lights of the waiting room seeming newly harsh and glaring. “Yeah?” he said, trying to sound alert.
“Do you mind sitting with your sister? I have to pee.” He looked past Morgan and saw Alexa, not crying anymore but still curled up in her chair. He nodded at Morgan. “Yeah, of course. Of course.”
Jason made his way to his sister. Kicked her chair lightly. “Hey.” She looked up at him, looking almost surprised to see him there.