Gone, Gone, Gone(47)

Mom says, “Craig. I know you miss Cody, but do you really think going to visit him is the best idea?”

“He’s not going to hurt me or anything.”

“But, Craig, you had something special with him. And I know that . . . when he had to go away, it was a very hard time for you. You seem so happy now that you’ve made a new friend. I don’t want you to get bogged down in those old feelings.”

I don’t know how she could figure all that out without realizing how bogged down I still am in those old feelings.

So I say, “Maybe I could get closure, Mom.”

“Does Lio know about this?”

I shake my head.

She pauses, because she’s waiting for me to say that I’ll ask him before I go.

I don’t say anything.

She says, “You’ll miss karate if you’re gone this weekend.”

“I really don’t care.”

She glances at the TV. “Where’s this school?”

“Pennsylvania.”

“Ugh. Maybe it would be nice to get you out of town for a few days.”

Lio—

I had the sudden urge to call you Liodore. Either I’m a freak who spends too much time on IM or all that talk about DEAD BROTHER (am I allowed to use the caps? Are those reserved to you?) got to my head.

I hope you’re having a good time. You should go to one of New York’s thriving gay clubs. Or something. Don’t kiss any hot men. Though I doubt you could reach them. Maybe on your tiptoes. Do you dance on your tiptoes? Could you? It sounds amazing.

Craiger

C—

I’ll be there.

Love,

Craigor

I really am not planning to do anything with Cody. I’m not, and still it feels like I’m cheating on Lio. On the drive up to Pennsylvania, Paul Simon on the radio, Cody’s mom singing softly along while she twists her wedding ring, I feel like I’m cheating. Does motivation matter for cheating? Because this has nothing to do with Lio. I love Lio. But I love Cody, too.

And a few days ago, that was okay with me and okay with Lio, but a few days ago, I wasn’t on my way to Cody’s school. And I’m not so dumb that I don’t know this changes things.

I say, “Am I old enough to fall in love?” Didn’t Lio ask me this same question?

Mrs. Carter looks at me. “Oh, honey, you’re old enough as soon as you realize there are other people in the world.”

And she means this as a reassurance, I know it, and I can tell by her hand on the back of my neck, but, oh, God. I don’t know if I’m there. I don’t know. I don’t know.

And she’s only telling me that because I guess she still thinks Cody and I are together.

And Lio and I never officially got together. And Cody and I never officially broke up.

Christ.

It’s just like Cody said. My heart is alive my heart is alive my heart is alive. I have Lio’s heart. Fuck. What am I going to do with it?

What’s love when you’re too f*cked up to feel it right?

I think it’s a weapon.

Mrs. Carter says, “I wonder what these times do to you boys. I wonder so much.”

We wait in the lobby while the lady at the desk calls Cody’s room. This place looks like a hospital or a condominium.

I bounce from foot to foot.

And the doors to the elevator open and there he is. His hair’s a little longer, his clothes a little less wrinkled, his eyes a little more tired than I’ve ever seen. I remind myself he’s on medication, and maybe he’s not himself. Maybe he’s a lot different now.

Maybe he has a new boyfriend.

And he whispers, “Craig,” and he ignores his mom and runs to me and pulls me in and hugs me so tightly.

He smells like Cody. Oh, my God, I missed him so much. He smells like home and like my heart and I want my heart back but I can’t bear to take it from him because I think that he needs it and I think I am so warm in his arms right this second, and I hold my breath and I force myself to stop feeling like a murderer.





LIO

FIVE DAYS IN MOM’S APARTMENT IS ENOUGH TO convince Michelle that she never wants to leave, and enough to convince me that I’d be completely fine with never seeing New York or my mother again. There’s nothing like an old home to show you how everything has changed.

Adelle roped me into doing a phone thing on Wednesday. I ask her why we never talk about the day my mom left. She asks if it’s something I need to talk about.

Then I tell her about the day my mom left. I cry a little. Then I go into the kitchen for dinner, and Michelle is wearing a pair of Mom’s earrings.

See, it’s things like that.

I IM Jack and tell him I’m feeling crappy, and he tells me exactly the same thing Craig did, though I think Craig was joking: go out have fun get wasted

All right. Fine.

“I’m going out,” I tell Michelle. She’s making hot chocolate at the stove, which is so domestic it makes me want to puke.

“Where?”

“Just out.”

“Be back by midnight.”

What the f*ck? “I’m going out!” I call to Mom, and I slam the door before I hear her answer. That’s more than she did for us.

God, why am I here?

I meet up with some old friends of mine—Shawn and Tino, two turbo-gays I’ve known since seventh grade—and we meet in the park close to Vivo, this new club they insist drives Posh straight into the ground. Shawn has half a bottle of Jack Daniel’s he stole from his father, and I take a small swallow every time it comes my way, which is many, many, many times. It tastes like the time my Mom sprayed Lysol on my sandwich when she was cleaning. Minus the sandwich. After a while, my mouth gets numb enough that I don’t care.