White Rabbit(77)

“I hope that maybe we can start over.” Mr. Williams, it seems, is some kind of a mind reader. “This wasn’t exactly … it’s been a rough night, and I haven’t shown myself to my best advantage; but anyone who makes my son happy is important to me, and … and it looks like maybe the effort I plan to make for him extends to you, too.”

“I’m sorry for what I said,” I manage, embarrassed, feeling only slightly more comfortable than that time I had an open wound cleaned out with hand sanitizer.

We step apart again, a tense silence falling over us like a fireproof blanket, until Sebastian clears his throat and asks, “Does Mom know?”

“I told her. You know she’s way better about these things than I am.” Mr. Williams flashes a wry slice of a grin. “You think my temper tantrum was scary? You should’ve seen the one she threw when she found out I smashed her bowl.”

“Is she mad?”

“Not at you,” the man answers quickly. “Well, maybe a little, because you’ve been gone so long. But not about anything else. She’ll probably shout at you for a while when you get home, but then she’ll hold on to you until you’re about forty.” Soberly, he then adds, “You do need to come home, though, Sebastian. You’re not in trouble—I promise—and we’ll have a big family talk tomorrow about everything. But we should all be in bed right now.”

Sebastian nods, and clears his throat. “Okay. I will. I just … Rufus doesn’t have a car, and I’m sort of his ride tonight, so I have to…”

“Okay.” Mr. Williams rubs his arms as if noticing the damp chill in the air for the first time. “Drop him off, but then come straight home, all right? And maybe text your mother, so she can stop panicking? I don’t want her to send me out after you again.”

“I will,” Sebastian promises. He hesitates for just a moment, and then asks, “How did you know I was here, anyway?”

“Funny thing. I expected you’d be halfway to New York or Montreal or somewhere, and that I’d have to get the state police and the feds involved. Wasn’t until about thirty minutes ago that I remembered there’s a GPS system in your Jeep, and I used the antitheft tracking function to figure out where it was.”

Sebastian looks down at his feet, mumbling, “I’m sorry I scared you guys, I—”

“Let’s forget about it.” Mr. Williams shifts uncomfortably. “I scared you first, and Rufus is actually right—I owe you an apology. I’m sorry. I wish I could do this whole night over again, but … instead we start clean tomorrow. Okay?”

Sebastian nods his agreement and, after a quiet pause, Mr. Williams steps forward and draws his son into a hug. Feeling suddenly intrusive, I glance away to give them a little bit of privacy, studying the bright lights of the diner’s facade.

“I love you, Sebastian,” Mr. Williams says gruffly, and Sebastian murmurs a reply that’s lost to me. After a moment, I hear them step apart, and I look back in time to see the man give my boyfriend’s chest an affectionate thump with his fist, and then turn around to head for the other end of the parking lot. Over his shoulder, he calls, “I’ll see you at home. Soon, okay?”

“Okay,” Sebastian replies, his voice rocky and strained but filled with relief. Together, we watch in silence as Mr. Williams turns first into a gray shadow, and then vanishes altogether into the mist, leaving us alone again.





24

We sit quietly in the cab of the Jeep as Mr. Williams fires up his car, exits the lot, and turns out onto the road, his taillights glowing softly through the smudge of pre-dawn fog. I hold Sebastian’s hand in mine, clutched tightly over the center console, and I watch him carefully as he stares out the windshield in a sort of daze. The event that just transpired was so significant that there proves almost nothing to be said about it, no easy words to boil it down or sum it up.

After a long moment, Sebastian finally looks over at me, his face completely unreadable. “Everything is different.”

“I know.”

“My whole life … it’s—”

“Been rebooted, with additional software,” I finish for him, sounding anxiously optimistic. “You’re Sebastian 2.0 now. You just have to get used to the improvements. Are you … How do you feel?”

Sebastian shakes his head. “I don’t know. I’m … scared still. I mean, I’m happy, I guess, but I’m also sort of totally freaking out. Does that make any sense?”

“It makes perfect sense.” It’s a feeling I remember from my own experience—that terrifying death-drop when my secret was out, when I was no longer in control of that part of my life. “But this is huge, Sebastian. There’s some bumpy stuff at first, but it doesn’t take long for it to get better. And, I mean, the hard part is over now, right? And your dad actually wants to make an effort for you.”

“Is the hard part really over, though?” Sebastian’s dark, expressive eyes are full of doubt. “My dad’s always been like my best friend, Rufe. We talk about everything. What if we can’t anymore? What if this is too weird for him? What if he’s just not ever able to look at me the same way?”

For just a moment, his anxiety conjures up some inappropriate envy in me. Peter and I have never talked about anything personal, never been anything remotely approaching “friends.” He must know that I’m gay—either April or Hayden would have certainly brought it up at some point—but I have no idea how he feels about it. I doubt he’s ever spared a single thought for what it meant for me to come out. I’m over being hurt by him … but I can’t stifle that shameful pang of jealousy when I see how important Sebastian’s relationship with his father is to him.