“Mum, are you gonna be OK to drive back?” he asked as he unbuckled his seatbelt.
“I'll be fine, Jonathan, don't worry,” she quietly replied. He believed her, but as he left he noticed she was tightly gripping the steering wheel.
Jonathan power walked into the school, completely bypassing the group of boys without so much as a glance up. Chris noticed, but didn't mind; it was freezing outside, and he wasn't entirely sure why he himself wasn't inside.
Jonathan walked to his locker with a purpose. Not that the purpose would be fulfilled at his locker, he just needed to prepare himself for later on. So, everything he did that morning was done with a purpose, until he finally strode into the lunchroom.
He even sat down with a purpose. None of the other boys were there, but this was usual. Jonathan was always there first, then most of the time Crack or Tom would show up. Occasionally, Steve would be there after Jonathan, but as of late he'd been arriving just after Spencer and just before Matt.
Today it was Tom who graced Jonathan with his presence first. He sat in the seat opposite Jonathan, where Devon had always sat. Though it had only been a day since his departure, Jonathan was guessing that Tom was trying to take over Devon's position as the group leader. It wasn't going to work, though, because he was the same social status as the rest of them, if not a tiny bit lower.
Tom started talking about the troubles the American economy was experiencing, and Jonathan would have loved to stuff a sock in his mouth so he'd shut up. Tom went on and on about how he was glad that he didn't live there anymore, but eventually England would suffer, too, and maybe he should just move to Japan or something. Of course, his parents wouldn't want to do that, did Jonathan even know what the Japanese did? Pearl Harbor. That was bad news.
“Lots of Americans were killed, Jonathan,” Tom apprised. “Lots. And could you imagine if my grandfather had been there? I might not have been born, all thanks to some Japanese people I don't know. Thankfully, he was off... sleeping with hookers or something, but he did fight in the war, because it's not like he was completely unpatriotic or anything.”
Tom's World War II lecture continued on long after the other boys sat down and told him that no one cared. Unfortunately, Tom didn't care, either, so his mouth kept spitting out useless information until his stomach informed him that it would like to be digesting some nutrition.
Jonathan wasn't even sure yet how he was going to do it. He'd thought about it almost every moment since the previous night, but it wasn't easy to decide on the exact method to use. He had to do it soon, though, that much he knew for sure.
“So, Spencer,” Crack, who was sitting next to Jonathan, casually began. Spencer looked up quickly and waited for Crack to continue. “What're you collecting this week, hmm?”
“Shoes,” Spencer replied with big eyes. “You'd be amazed at how many shoes you can find just lying around.”
“Lying around where?” Steve snorted. Spencer snapped his head around.
“Everywhere,” he simply said. Then he turned back to Crack. “Napkins, too. So, when you're done with that...”
Crack looked down at his tray to see what Spencer was pointing at. Go figure, he was pointing at Crack's napkin. He narrowed his eyes at Spencer and suspiciously said, “Yeah. We'll see.” Spencer nodded, then sat back in his chair with a creepy satisfied grin on his face.
“So, anyway,” Steve tried to say as nonchalantly as he could, then began a discussion about some television program. Matt joined in, giving all sorts of insight into what was supposedly going to happen next on the show. Crack didn't believe him, but Tom chimed in to say that he heard it was true, too. That didn't make Crack any less skeptical.
Jonathan tapped his fingers on the table. He was predictably tired of their conversation. It was time, anyway. On somewhat of a whim, he lifted the freshly opened, but as of yet untouched carton of milk that was just chilling on Crack's tray.
“Hey, what the hell are you doing?” Crack shouted, but Jonathan didn't listen, didn't respond. He just stood up and began to walk across the room. And he walked with a purpose.
In the final stretch, about five feet from his destination, he started to feel it. The blood coursing through his veins pricked him in as many places as it could, leaving behind a nervous tingle shivering throughout his body. It was sort of frightening, but at the same time, sort of empowering.
Chris looked a little nervous, but he hadn't even seen Jonathan walk up. He was talking to some other boy, and he kept halfheartedly laughing every now and then at the boy's story. Jonathan didn't bother to stop to get Chris's attention, though he didn't have to; Chris turned his head when Jonathan was still in motion and then smiled at him without even thinking.
About half a minute passed before Chris realized what was going on. His and Jonathan's lips were locked together, which was wonderful until he remembered that he was in the middle of a cafeteria filled with other boys. But before he could react properly, something dropped on his head. It was solid, in a way, but liquid was trickling down his forehead and the back of his neck, too.
Jonathan walked back to the other table. He didn't dare turn to look at the scene behind him. The silence ringing throughout the room said enough by itself, and Jonathan could infer from observing the boys in front of him that everyone else was already looking at Chris. As it should be.
“It wasn't even any good,” Jonathan said to Crack as he sat down. He threw the empty carton onto the tray in front of Crack, who was staring bug-eyed at Jonathan. “Way past expired.”
Suddenly, there was a loud, ghastly shriek from the other side of the room, and then came the sound of footsteps running out the door. There was only one other short moment of silence before laughter burst out of the other boys.
Jonathan just sat there, feeling quite accomplished, ignoring the few stares he was still receiving. Eventually, everyone returned the favor and left Jonathan alone. He was quite happy with that.
For the rest of the school day, he warded off the occasional looks that the others gave him. He didn't really care about what they thought. In any case, they'd probably forget about him soon enough, like the way his fame merely two days prior had been extremely short-lived. They wouldn't forget Chris, though, and that was the point.
Jonathan had become so accustomed to walking home that he didn't even think to look for his mother's car after school. It was just as well, anyway, as he wouldn't have found it. Even with all of the cold air smacking him around, he still didn't think about it until he reached his house to see the car sitting uselessly in the driveway.
“Jonathan, I'm sorry,” Penny immediately told him as he walked through the door. He had only just entered the house, and already she was all up in his space. “I was going to pick you up, but I- I couldn't.”
“Oh, don't worry about it,” Jonathan waved. “I'm used to walking home, and if you're not comfortable with driving, then I don't want to force you to do it.”
“Jonathan, you shouldn't be so nice to people,” Penny replied, rather drained. Jonathan laughed, mostly to himself.
“Mum, I'm not that nice, trust me.” Jonathan walked past Penny, into the kitchen, and over to the fridge to get a drink. Penny followed him most of the way, but stopped at the kitchen table.
“Right, like you go around robbing houses and punching old ladies all the time...” Penny briefly paused, resting a hand on one of the nearby chairs. “Then again, you do like to go on all those walks, and you're never really clear about where you are or anything.”
“Trust me, I would never punch an old lady. And I don't think I have the stealth to rob a house without getting caught.” Jonathan turned around and somberly added, “And I don't think that I'll be going on very many walks anymore.”
“Too cold?”
Jonathan stared at Penny, and decided to take the easy way out. “Yeah. One of the things I hate about winter, the fact that it's too damn cold to go outside.”
“You used to love playing outside in the winter,” Penny quietly, nostalgically said, with eyes set on the floor.
“I used to do a lot of things that I don't anymore, mum.” Jonathan shrugged and continued, “Things change.” Penny looked up and slowly nodded.
“Things do change, yes. Then one day you wake up, and you realize that you hardly know your son anymore. And you look out the window and see a smashed lamp on the ground.”
“Oh,” Jonathan laughed, “oops. I suppose I should clean that up, huh?”
“That would probably be a smart thing to do.” Penny tried to stare at Jonathan as motherly as she could, and she seemed to do a fine job, if Jonathan's reaction was any indication. Jonathan stalked off into the other room, threw on his shoes and a jacket, and quickly ran to pick up the broken pieces of lamp. He wasn't sure that he'd gotten the entirety, but after about three minutes or so he was growing weary of the cold.
He tossed the broken lamp into the garbage can on his way back inside. He undressed his outdoor attire as swiftly as he had put it on, and walked back into the kitchen, where he assumed he'd find his mother. His assumption was correct; Penny was standing in front of an open cabinet, observing the shelves' stock.
“Finished already?” she asked without looking back.
“Yeah, I'm pretty sure I got it all,” Jonathan replied, and he walked closer to his mother. Penny continued to silently stare at the food for another minute.
“What do you want for dinner, kid?” she finally spoke.
“Kid?” Jonathan laughed. Penny turned and gave Jonathan a look that said, You heard me. “You don't already have anything planned?” Penny shook her head and closed the cabinet.
“To be honest, I haven't done anything since this morning. When I got home, I just... it wasn't gonna happen.” Penny sighed, trying to shake off her sense of failure. She looked up at Jonathan, who seemed to be silently telling her not to worry. “Should I order pizza or something?”
“Pizza sounds delightful,” Jonathan replied. He lifted his arm and pointed his thumb backwards at the other room. “I'm gonna go sit in the living room now.”
“Have fun with that,” Penny called as Jonathan left the room. He flopped down onto the couch and reached for the remote. He never usually watched all that much TV, but he figured he'd give it a go. Of course, after five minutes and three searches through every single channel, he found nothing that caught his attention, so he switched the set off again. As he did so, he heard the thud of a closing phone book and the beep of a cordless phone being hung up.
Jonathan lay motionless for quite a while, just plainly staring up at the ceiling. The tiles in the living room weren't much different from the tiles in his room. Still, it was an old habit of his, and a very hard one to break. Finally, he heard his mother creeping into the room.
“Nothing good on?” she asked as she sat down. Jonathan shook his head, keeping his eyes on the ceiling. Penny gave a small laugh and said, “Figures. Pizza should be here in-”
A loud knock interrupted Penny's sentence, and both she and Jonathan looked over at the doorway. Penny got up to answer the door, all the while mumbling about how she had no idea who it could be, it was much too soon for the pizza guy to be there. Jonathan stayed in his spot until he heard a familiar voice.
“Is Jonathan home?”
“Yes, he is. I'll go get him for you,” Penny replied, and she turned around to fetch Jonathan. She didn't need to, though, as he was already right behind her. She moved out of the way so that he could speak with the boy at the door.
“What are you doing here?” Jonathan asked. Chris looked terrible, as expected, though Jonathan certainly hadn't expected to see him at all. His eyes were bloodshot, and his cheeks were flushed. It looked like some of his eyelashes were stuck together, wet and slightly frozen.
He shakily inhaled and responded, “Can I come in? It's kinda cold out here.” Jonathan nodded and let Chris inside, closing the door behind him.
The two were silent for a minute, Penny lurking a few feet away from them, then Jonathan said, “So... how did you know find where I live?”
“I asked Kirsten.” Chris looked around, back and forth between Penny and Jonathan, and nervously rubbed his arm. “Would it be all right if I stayed with you guys for while? My, um... my parents kicked me out.”
“Your parents kicked you out?”
“They found out about... us,” Chris lowered his voice and glanced at Penny. “And I told them about Kirsten. They gave me, like, two minutes to get stuff together, then told me to leave.” Jonathan hadn't noticed until then that Chris was sporting a rather hefty-looking backpack.
Jonathan pitied Chris for a few moments, then turned to his mother. “Can Chris stay with us?” Penny looked contemplative, but she firmly nodded. Jonathan smiled a little and turned back to Chris. “Come on, I'll bring you up to the guest room, and you can throw your stuff in there.”
Chris followed Jonathan up the stairs and down to a room at the end of the hall. Jonathan held the door open for Chris, and he slowly walked inside. The room was nice enough, not that he really cared. He just needed a place to sleep. It was bad enough that he'd walked all the way from his house, some forty-odd minutes in the cold, having to worry about being homeless just made things a thousand times worse. He was good now, though, and warm.
He was just staring with his hand clamped onto his backpack, and he hadn't realized until he felt Jonathan's hand on his shoulder that he'd started to cry. Again. It was a little embarrassing, but he couldn't stop it. It wasn't like he hadn't already been embarrassed earlier, anyway.
“How do I even still have water in my body?” Chris tried to laugh, wiping his cheeks dry. “This is all I've been doing all day.” Jonathan sighed, suppressing his urge to hold Chris, and suggested that they return downstairs.
They settled in the living room, both Chris and Jonathan sitting on the couch, and Penny watched them from the doorway. Neither of them said anything, the just sat and stared at each other and at various objects around the room. Eventually, she sat down, and started talking to Chris. She asked him basic, simple things about himself, and the entire time Jonathan was hiding his face. She didn't express it, but Jonathan just felt like Penny was a little weirded out.
She had to leave once the pizza arrived, and she ushered it into the kitchen to prepare a few plates. The silence reentered the room, save for a few sniffs from Chris.
It was Jonathan who finally spoke, “Sorry about earlier. I realize that it was a little cruel to do it that way, but I felt like it was something I had to do.”
Chris turned to Jonathan, and his voice whined as he said, “Why? Yesterday, we were- Everything was fine.” Jonathan looked back at him as if to say that there was nothing else he could have done. “It's my fault, isn't it?” Jonathan took a deep breath.
“Kinda, but that's also part of the problem,” he answered.
“What is?”
“You're so arrogant, Chris. Even when you're trying to be mindful of other people, it's always about you.” Jonathan shrugged and quietly said, “I think that's something that you need to change.”
After a moment's silence, Chris wheezed, “Will you help me change?” The look on Chris's face was so pitiful and disheartening.
“Yeah, I will. And we can be friends if you want, but nothing more.” Chris nodded, but he frowned a bit as he did so.
“So, you don't even love me anymore.” It looked painful for Jonathan to do so, but he shook his head firmly. Chris deeply inhaled and inquired, “Did you ever actually love me?”
Jonathan paused for a moment to think, then decisively said, “No.” He didn't say it because it was true, because it wasn't true, not at all; he said it because it was what Chris needed to hear. Although, the more he thought about it, and the more time he spent talking to Chris, the more he began to believe that maybe they hadn't both felt the same kind of love.
Chris was staring in the same spacey way that had become slightly normal for him over the past few days. He wasn't as unconscious, though, and he quietly said, “Jonathan, can I ask you a question?”
“Of course.” Chris took a deep breath and continued to stare across the room.
“When we were together, was it weird for you... you know, that we're both boys?”
Jonathan twisted his mouth and nodded a little. “At first, yeah, but I got used to it after a while.” Chris turned his head down to look at his hands resting in his lap.
“I thought about it all the time. Whenever we were together, I'd think, He's a boy, he's a boy. But it was never weird for me. Then whenever I was with a girl...” Chris paused, watched as Jonathan winced a little, “I'd be like, She's a girl, she's a girl... and that was weird for me.” Chris looked at Jonathan with frightened eyes, and Jonathan stared at him for a few moments before he understood. He actually couldn't believe that he hadn't thought of it earlier, as it explained quite a lot.
“Oh.” Chris raised his eyebrows and his near-tears look returned. He buried his face in his frustrated hands, and shoved his fingers into his curly mop of hair.
“Chris?” Penny had been in the other room still, but she seemed to have abandoned her task of getting the pizza, and walked over to the boys, sitting down in the armchair nearest Chris. As she sat, she smoothed out the wrinkles in her dress. “I'm sorry, but I couldn't help overhearing... Chris, there's nothing to be ashamed of.”
Chris raised his eyes to Penny, wanting desperately to believe her. He let his hands fall into his lap as he asked, “There isn't?”
“No,” she said. “Well, people aren't going to like it, that's for sure, but if that's who you are, then you shouldn't be afraid. You shouldn't be afraid of being you.”
“But my parents... they already kicked me out just because they found out about Jon... if they take me back-” Chris's eyes bulged and he freaked, “They will take me back, right?”
“I think they will,” Penny calmly replied. Chris settled a little, but he sighed heavily.
“I'm expected to marry, to have children, raise the perfect family...” His voice was shaking, and it only got worse as he cried, “How am I going to tell them that I don't like girls?”
Penny looked thoughtfully for a moment, then replied, “It won't be easy, I'm sure. It probably won't be easy for your parents to hear, either. But don't be afraid to tell them.”
“What if they hate it... or hate me... What if they kick me out again?”
“You're always welcome here.”
“All right, so, what, then? I just go up to them and say, 'Hey, mum. Dad. Guess what? I'm...'” Chris closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then slowly opened them again. He opened his mouth, but as many times as he tried, nothing came out. He looked over to Jonathan, trying to find some confidence. He saw the green eyes stare at him and somehow the words just flowed from his vocal chords.“I'm gay... Oh, wow.”
“It feels better to say it, doesn't it?” Penny asked.
“It's scary. Like, it's real now. This thing that I've...” Chris airily laughed, “You know, it was so frustrating, going on all those dates for my parents, and every single time thinking that I'm never going to find the right girl. Now I know why, and it's not any less frustrating!”
“Chris?” Chris looked up to Jonathan, and Jonathan continued, “It's OK.” Chris felt a bit of his heavy load lighten as he gained Jonathan's acceptance, and he smiled until he remembered that Jonathan didn't return his feelings anymore. Then a sad sort of silence fell between the two boys, and Penny decided to chime in after a bit.
“Jonathan, you could have told me about you two, you know,” she said. “I would have understood, at least. I can't believe you hid something like this from me.”
Jonathan shrugged, “Well, I hid it from everyone... except for Chris, of course.” Chris was already looking at Jonathan when Jonathan turned his head. “I never hid anything from you, because you were the only thing I ever had to hide.” Chris's face fell, plagued with sadness.
“I hid everything from you... Jonathan.” Chris sweetly gazed at Jonathan with teary and regretful blue eyes and said, “I'm sorry.”
